The Goon's Guide To Mental Health
by likethekoschka
Summary: Llamas. Windmills. Cheeseandangst sandwiches. Oh yeah...and slash. Complete. Spoilers for all seasons, all eps
1. Lost

The Goon's Guide to Mental Health

_Unabridged Edition because Geeks like lots of words_

By likethekoschka

**am·ne·sia** (am'nE-zh),_noun, _loss of memory due usually to brain injury, shock, fatigue, repression, or illness.

_Goon's Addendum: In general, Geeks are a forgetful bunch. This is especially true when it comes to hauling Ancient devices. You will tend to find that when you have a five mile hike back to the gate through, a hot, bug infested jungle, and the device weighs more than, say, a pound and a half, they will have forgotten to leave enough room in their pack to carry it. However, if the trip is short on a pleasant day, and the device fits in the palm of their hand, you'll be lucky to even get a glance at the object as they will horde it away like it's the last Snicker's Bar in the galaxy. Sometimes it can be hard to tell if your Geek is actually suffering from amnesia or just typical Geeky absent mindedness. One of the best tests is to check their recall of Geek trivia; this includes anything that has to do with Gene Roddenberry, Star Wars, or Unix. So, if your Geek can no longer recite the Warrior's Code in the native Klingon or has trouble drawing the wiring diagram for the Millennium Falcon, then chances are you are dealing with true amnesia. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as they will have probably also forgotten all the times you threatened to shoot them if you had to carry another Ancient device through the jungle and stolen the last Snicker's Bar from their overfilled pack._

**Part 1: Lost**

He forgot me.

Just like that…he forgot me.

Not altogether, no, but I didn't know if that would've been worse or not. I just didn't fucking know. As it was, he remembered me, but he didn't remember _us_. The warmest part of my life, the absolute best part and it had vanished from his memory as if it had never even been there. As if we had never been. Period.

I shoved the sweats from the open bureau drawer into a garbage bag. Packing the college way. It's the end of the semester. Load your shit up, give your roommate a casual wave goodbye, and walk away. And that's what I was doing…walking away. I'd already seen the expression of wary puzzlement when he'd woken up to me holding his hand. I'd seen the look of immediate and automatic denial when his eyes focused on my ring and then the matching one on his own finger. I'd seen…I'd seen Dr. Rodney McKay, genius, egomaniacal asshole, friend…and that was all. There'd been nothing else.

Nothing.

I didn't want to see what would be on his face when he walked into our…into his quarters and saw our clothes intermingled. My books shoulder to shoulder with his bound dissertations and physics texts. Our picture on the bedside table. A beach, an Athosian festival of spring, both of us pleasantly looped on berry wine with flushed faces and bright eyes. We had our arms over each other's shoulders, me with a wide grin and Rodney with his crooked one. We could've been buddies, pals…if the camera hadn't caught us looking at each other with more than good humor. Looking at each other with…hell, fucking _everything_. I picked up the clear plexiglass frame, wrapped it carefully in one of my shirts, and put it into the bag.

I wasn't running. Not that I hadn't spent a good deal of my life doing that; I had. There was more than one reason I'd chosen the military. And it obviously wasn't my love of follow-the-leader or of being told what to do. It was the last career I would've thought I'd have chosen. To be like him…to be like good old Colonel Dad, it was the goddamn last thing I wanted. But…I discovered flying. And I discovered that the military let you run better than anything. You were shipped here…shipped there and no one really had to know who you were. No one could become enough to you that when they kicked you out, tossed you to the curb like garbage that it would mean a damn thing. Naturally I'd managed to screw that up. I'd gone to a place where there was no running. I'd let people in. I'd let one in particular dig his way under my skin…and here I was.

Kicked to the curb again.

Only this time I was kicking myself out, before someone did it for me. I wasn't giving up. Fuck…no. **_No_**. But I was making it easier on him and, yeah, like the emotional coward I was, easier on me too. I couldn't look into his face and not see me. He wouldn't want me here and if I saw that on top of all the other things I'd seen in the past two days…I honestly didn't know what would happen. I'd once told him everyone could be broken. Everyone. I'd been talking about him and Kolya…about torture. But it was true across the board. Everyone could be broken. I didn't want him coming back only to find me less than I was. And he would be coming back. He would get back what he'd lost. He would. He fucking would…right?

I checked my watch and swore. I'd told Dr. Z to stall him in the infirmary, but I was still out of time. Hurriedly, I tore the Johnny Cash poster from the wall. I managed to rip it almost exactly down the middle. Swearing viciously, I wadded it up and shoved it in the garbage can by the door. I did a quick scan of the room and headed for the door. I had a feeling I was forgetting something, but I couldn't think of what it was. I couldn't think clearly on too much of anything right now.

I triggered the door by slapping my palm on the wall panel. I didn't even try a mental command. All I needed right now was to have the damn thing slam on me and break my arm. Things were going so goddamn swimmingly, that would just be the cherry on the fucking sundae.

It opened and I walked through. I didn't look back. If I had…wouldn't have been able to leave. But there was part of me—the small, selfish and pathetic, absolute shit-fucking-terrified part of me that said….

He left you first.

x x x xx

I was the first to leave the briefing and make why way hurriedly through the hallways toward home. Briefing… hell it was little more than an announcement in Elizabeth's office, little more than her verbalizing the letter of condolence she would be writing before the day was out. To the family of Dr. William Eckhardt, we regret to inform you that your loved one died on an alien planet when he touched a fucking Ancient power supply trying to maintain an energy shield so that a bunch of llama farmers won't be killed by a toxic algae bloom in the next week. So sorry he had to die, but they make some damn fine cheese that's a big hit here on Atlantis, so we feel his sacrifice was worth while.

I rounded a corner, coming face to face with a medical tech, nearly knocking both of us to the floor. She smiled nervously and stepped to the same side I did, then as if we were dancing, did the same in the opposite direction. With a small growl, I grabbed her shoulders, pushed her off to one side and continued on my way. For the rest of the trip, my glower was enough to clear the path of any other human obstacles.

I was in sight of the door to our quarters when Radek came across my radio. "Rodney, is it true… about Bill?"

I ground my teeth. "Yes."

"Wh…what happened?"

"Not now." And I pulled the radio piece from my ear before he could ask more, activated the door open and promptly threw the communications device across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed silently on the bed.

"Fuck!" I yelled to the room in general.

We had seen similar shield systems like the Inyians had on their planet in the past; all a little different but basically the same in concept. Units set up by the Ancients and powered to protect a small population of people from either the Wraith or some cosmological event or natural phenomenon that would otherwise kill the local inhabitants. For the Inyians it was an annual algal bloom that resulted in a huge increase in oxygen in the atmosphere that in turn triggered a bizarre geologic occurrence related to iron-rich volcanic deposits that almost immediately oxidized and decreased the oxygen levels below sustainable levels in small localized areas. I was on the verge of issuing adult diapers to all the biologists and geologists who were peeing their pants in anticipation of witnessing this phenomenon that happened within a matter of months on the planet instead of the thousands of years it had taken on Proterozoic Earth. Still, as giddy with anticipation as the science staff was, the Inyians were a little nervous, seeing as their shield system had started to fail and imminent death waited on the other side.

The shield was set up on an elaborate grid network to better conserve the power supplied by the nearly depleted ZedPM. It worked great as long as the grid was able to maintain the chain of power running between the substations. However, ten thousand years without preventative maintenance had finally caught up with the system and a weak link had been discovered in the chain. And of course seeing as the Inyian technology made most Earth-based third world nations look like Silicon Valley, they had come to their newest trade partners for help.

Stackhouse's team had the lead as they had made the initial contact with the Inyians the previous year and Teyla and Dex had joined him as Teyla had personal contacts among the locals. Normally I would have sent Radek to work the issue; aside from me, he obviously knew the power systems better than anyone else on Atlantis. However, I needed him here to untangle the massive cluster fuck that Kavanagh had made of the jumper systems while running a simple diagnostic. So, instead I had sent Bill. And now he was dead. Like all the others before him. One more name to add to the ever growing list of staff members…. colleagues… friends, that would never make the return trip back to Earth. A list that scrolled through my mind on a daily basis, all the way back to the first ones in the form of Gall and Abrams.

The door swished open behind me and I heard John's booted strides enter the room. I didn't turn so he quietly addressed my back. "Rodney? I saw Stackhouse…"

I cut him off as I shook my head in disbelief. "What the hell were they thinking?"

"The team?"

"No, the Ancients. They went out and gave these people technologies light years ahead of their capabilities and then they just fucking deserted them. My God, it would be like me setting up a nuclear power plant in the jungles of Equatorial Guinea and telling the natives as I walk away, 'Well, just run this puppy to failure and don't mind the Chernobylesque molten core of death that will eventually kill you all'."

He came up behind me and wrapped long arms around my upper body, resting his chin on my shoulder. I eased into his hold slightly as I continued. "He wasn't a newbie either. I mean he had only been on Atlantis since the last Daedalus run, but he had been a field engineer at the SGC for years. Christ, he'd been through the gate more times than I have."

"Stackhouse told me there was nothing anyone could have done, he just opened the panel and the whole thing exploded."

I laughed bitterly in his arms. "Yeah, so I heard. You would think with all the stuff actually gunning for us out there that fate would cut us a little slack in the sheer dumb luck category. And you know what the absolute worst thing about this entire shitfest is? That there is a part of me that wants to throw my arms around Kavanagh and thank him for being such a royal class screw-up, otherwise it would have been Radek that had gotten blown to smithereens instead. I mean, how fucked up is that that I'm thankful one man is dead instead of another?"

The arms tightened possessively around me and he buried his face in my neck and I didn't have to be a genius to know who he was thankful hadn't been on the mission. "Pretty damn fucked."

I leaned into his head, nuzzling the mass of unruly hair and clung to his arms like the life line they were. It was so damn tempting to just stay there in John's embrace, so appealing to think of turning to face him and letting his mouth and hands and body try to ease away the pain and fear and anger. Knowing he would do it in a heart beat. Knowing he would do everything in his power to just make it all go away. But it wouldn't go away, not ever. Nothing in this world or any other would be able to erase all those names from my mind.

John had his own list, I knew, but even he would admit it wasn't the same. As he had told me over and over again, it was the military's job to put their lives on the line and each and every one of them accepted that responsibility when they signed their name on the line. But nowhere in grad school do they offer a class on risking your existence in order to save the galaxy. And writing a two hundred page dissertation sure as hell didn't prepare you for writing a two page letter home to a grieving family.

With a sigh I patted his arms in a silent request for release. "I have to go."

He kissed the nape of my neck. "No, you don't."

"Teyla and Dex are still on that planet trying to arrange for an evacuation, if necessary. The entire grid is going to collapse in less than a week if we can't get it repaired and the oxygen levels are dropping almost as fast. I'm going to have Radek and Miko running simulations and I need to be in the lab to make sure we get it right this time. I'm not sending anyone else back until we figure out how to fix it first."

With a final squeeze he removed his arms and I turned to look at him for the first time since he came in the room. I leaned in for a quick, soft kiss, then rested my forehead on his. He tried to hide the disappointment we both knew he was going to have when he asked his next question. "See you later?"

I shrugged. "Don't know. I'll try, but…"

"Yeah."

With a final kiss I pulled back, grabbed my radio from the bed and headed out of our quarters. I tried to cling to the memory of John's arms, his lips, his voice, but all I seemed capable of thinking about was Abrams, Gall, Wagner, Johnson, Dumais, Hays, Grodin, Monroe, Lindstrom… an ever growing list that ended with Eckhardt before it looped and began all over again.

x x x x x

There were subdued voices in the cafeteria. Subdued voices, solemn faces, the still air of a funeral. And why not? Today was a funeral. There'd be an official one of course, maybe in a day or two. They'd scrape up what was left of Dr. Eckhardt, stick him in a box, say some pretty words over him, and store him in the freezer until the next Daedalus run.

And Rodney would go into a freezer too, the emotional kind. You wouldn't think it. He would be snappy, excessively so…even for him. He would be short, abrupt, and king high son of a bitch, but all of that had one purpose. Feeling nothing but annoyance meant you didn't have to feel other things. Worse things. Guilt, sorrow, helplessness. That was the worst one for Rodney…helplessness. People died on government missions and when those missions were in another galaxy where your position on the food chain was hamburger with legs, people died a lot. I was used to it, I guess you'd say…people dying. That was the thing about flying: you were either dropping people off in bad, bad places or picking their bloody bodies up from the same. I was used to it and that was a godawful thing to be. I didn't want that for McKay or any of the geeks, but what I wanted didn't seem to matter a damn.

Rodney had lost a lot of men and women since we'd walked through the gate. It had started with Gall and Abrams, then the plague and during the Wraith siege. And that was something he couldn't fix, not with his huge brain, his uncanny instinct for what made things work, or his massive determination. It was probably the first thing he had run into in his life that he couldn't tweak, finagle or out and out push the way he wanted to go. It ate at him. I might be the only one he let see that…but it did.

"Colonel?"

I jerked my attention back to the task at hand. "Three meals," I ordered, holding up the fingers and then rolling my eyes. "And five desserts. On one tray."

Ten minutes later I was walking unnoticed through the lab doors. I didn't try for stealth. I could've stomped in shooting my nine-mil at the ceiling and no one would've noticed. Well, yeah, Miko would squeal and scurry under the nearest table, but she was normal. Rodney and Radek weren't. I felt the corners of my mouth quirk downward slightly as I watched the three heads bowed together. It looked like they were studying schematics in holographic form. Radek was saying, "Here. Here. Notice this." His fingers danced over a keyboard and the glowing figure rotated. I hoped they came up with something and something pretty fucking error proof. I was not watching McKay going the way of Eckhardt. I wasn't.

I put the loaded tray down on a nearby table, grabbed a nearby pen and wrote 'EAT!' on a napkin. Draping it over the center meal, I took a last look at the geek squad and shook my head. The buzz of brain waves was almost audible in the air. They'd come up with something. I didn't have a doubt. The door closed behind me and I headed for the hangar bay. Kavanagh had requested the pleasure of my company about twenty minutes ago. Or more exactly, he gave his best shot at ordering me around like a five-year old. The trouble with Kavanagh was he didn't know even a five-year old could take his ass, so he better lay the hell off mine. I wasn't in the mood.

When I finally moseyed into the bay, he was flushed and his eyes were small with annoyance behind his glasses. "Well, Colonel Sheppard, so glad you could take the time from your busy schedule of loitering in the cafeteria to actually do your job."

I'd had my suspicions Kavanagh was doing the lunch lady, but here was proof. Private Beulah-Anne DeVry was a fine figure of a woman…if you were into thighs like tree trunks, a nonexistent neck and a smile like a bulldog. Snaggly, very snaggly. But it just went to show you…there was someone for everyone and even those who ate their young and licked their own business could find true love.

I folded arms and considered the distant ceiling. "You know, Kavanagh. What comes up must come down. That includes jumpers." I grinned. "Do you really want to piss me off before you know where I'm coming down?"

He scowled, checked his electronic clipboard, and muttered, "Let's get on with it, shall we? The sooner we finish, the sooner I can report your blatant attempt at threatening me to Dr. Weir."

Yeah, we were having all sorts of fun today. "You're a great guy, Kav," I drawled. "I don't care what everyone in this galaxy and the last say. Repeatedly. Now which jumper?"

He pointed stiffly and I trundled my ATA ass off to see if he'd managed to fix what he'd screwed up. We had enough pilots now that I didn't have to do it personally. But when it came to less than optimum conditions, I still was going to be the one flying. Kavanagh trying to repair his fuck up was definitely less than optimum conditions.

Settling into the jumper seat, I went through the diagnostic without much optimism. Surprise, surprise. It ran without a hitch. "All right," the smug voice came in my ear. "Take her up to a height of twenty-five feet and then fifty."

Fifty turned out to be the magic number. The worst part? I missed that son of a bitch.

Thirty minutes later I was lying in bed with a folded washcloth pressed to my head and thanking God Rodney was in the lab, because the bitching? It would've been profound. It would've been unreal. It would've been….

"Have a headache, do you? Morons who fall out of the sky usually tend to."

The snide comment came from the door and didn't this day just keep getting better and better. Christ. Rodney so did not need this right now. "Who squealed?" I asked grimly. "It couldn't have been Kavanagh. He had to go change his pants." I'd missed him when the jumper came crashing to the floor, but it hadn't been by much. The power had cut out fifty feet up…completely. The thing about jumpers…the only really noncool thing…when they don't have power, they fall. They don't glide or soar, they just fucking fall. A powerless jumper had all the aerodynamic qualities of a Warner Brothers Acme anvil. And they didn't come with airbags either.

I hit my head on…hell, who knew? By the time I staggered out the back I had blood running into my eyes and Kavanagh was on all fours ten feet away hyperventilating. Sincerely. I had to turn around, go back into the jumper for the first aid kit, and root around for a paper bag. I didn't find one, but I did find an airsick bag…thanks to one Sergeant Hohenecker. I gave it to Kavanagh to breathe into and studied what was left of my baby.

There wasn't much structural damage, but there was some. McKay was going to _shit_. We were scraping the barrel on jumpers as it was. With one more out of commission even temporarily…it wasn't good. And Rodney seemed to take any jumper accident personally—as if we wrecked them on purpose for the sole reason of making his life a living hell. He should've known I had better ways of doing that.

I left Kavanagh to deal with the mess after telling him if he called a med team I would kick his ass. And if he couldn't deal with this without bugging McKay I'd kick his ass twice. Rodney didn't need to be there and he didn't need to be in the infirmary watching Beckett stick a Snoopy bandaid on my boo boo.

"One of Kavanagh's team. My spies are everywhere." He leaned over me, slapped my hand away from the washcloth and lifted it to take a look. His lips thinned in worry. "Well, it's only your brain seeping out. You won't miss it. You so rarely use it anyway."

I wrestled the washcloth back and reapplied it to the cut at my hairline. It was barely an inch long, but it was deep and head wounds did like to bleed and this one was enthusiastic. It wasn't exactly gushing, but the cloth was half saturated. "It's fine, Rodney. No big deal, I swear. Go back to the lab."

"Oh shut up, would you? Just shut up." He nudged me upward by my shoulder and tossed the pillows to the floor. Sitting on the bed, he eased my head into my lap. "Give that to me. I swear, you're like a child. A child with a gun and a completely ludicrous belief in your own immortality. Gravity applies to everyone, Sheppard. _Every_-one." He pulled the cloth from my hand again, refolded it and pressed it firmly to the cut.

"No shit," I grunted, swallowing a hiss of pain.

"Kavanagh is dead," he said matter-of-fact. "Maybe not physically, but I will destroy his will to live. Every single scrap of it. He will pray that bleached blond lumberjack crushes his head between her thighs like an overripe melon the next time he's exhibiting his utter lack of sexual prowess. Everything Radek has done to him will pale in comparison. Job himself will take up a collection for the miserable bastard."

I reached up and patted his arm. "Seriously, Rodney. I'm okay. I really am."

His mouth relaxed slightly, but his eyes stayed dark. "It's just…." He sighed and ran the fingers of his free hand through my hair. "I'm just really tired of sopping up your blood."

It honestly couldn't have happened on a worse day. First Eckhardt and now this. It was a minor injury, but on top of everything else…things mount up. They fucking do. I moved my hand from his arm and slid it under the bottom of his shirt to rest warm fingers on his stomach. "Did you and the other two Musketeers eat?" I asked, changing the subject. "I had to fight off Barclay for those pieces of cake. I'm not sure if German chocolate is his favorite or he just hates you so much that he'd do anything to see you miserable and sugar free."

"Yes, mother," he snorted. "We ate. Radek says thank you and Miko blushed, stammered, and went to hide in the bathroom for a good ten minutes at the very thought someone noticed she was a carbon based lifeform in need of sustenance." He lifted the washcloth again, shook his head and replaced it. "Once, just once, I would like a crisis free day. Half a day even, that would be acceptable. Nothing but boring meetings, tinkering in the lab, deliciously bad food in the cafeteria…."

"Mind-blowing sex," I prompted. "Don't forget the mind-bowing sex."

His eyebrows lifted. "As if his perpetual horniness would let me. Yes, yes, and mind-blowing sex. One day, that's all I ask. One simple fucking day." Lifting the cloth again, his eyes lightened slightly, "It's stopped. I think you'll live. And since that is the case, tell me what the hell you did to my puddlejumper? Destroy it utterly, because you certainly do have the knack for it."

"Well, I did try to throw myself out the back and under it to cushion the blow," I drawled, "but I didn't quite make it."

"And thank god you didn't," came the immediate response. "All those sharp bones sticking out everywhere would have done more damage than the hangar bay floor possibly ever could."

I scowled and pinched the skin over his side. "Totally not the way to get the mind-blowing sex, McKay."

He tugged at a piece of my hair and said honestly, "I wish I had the time. God, do I." Discarding the cloth, he ran a careful fingertip over the cut. I could feel it pass, the faint sandpaper of callus, before he leaned over and kissed me. There was the warmth of lips, the fleeting silk of tongue, and breath rich with chocolate and coconut. I cupped the back of his neck with my hand when he would've pulled away and savored it and him a while longer. After a nip to my bottom lip, he finally sat up. "Keep that up, Colonel, and my lap won't be much good as a pillow anymore." He checked his watch and grimaced. "Never mind. Pillow time is over anyway." An assessing gaze pinned me. "Are you sure you're all right? Carson hasn't exactly forgiven you for blowing up a good portion of his infirmary. He never sees the bigger picture, does he? But regardless, if you have the slightest doubt, we need to go let him shake his rattle at you."

"No." Make that, hell, no. Not forgiving me was pretty much the same as wanting to use me for prostate exam practice for all the new nurses. "I've had enough concussions to know the difference between that and a simple knock on the head." I sat up and refused to wince at the increased pounding in my head. "All I need is Tylenol and a nap and I'll be kicking Wraith ass and taking Wraith names before you know it."

"Since you give them all their names that wouldn't be hard," he said dryly. He watched as I went to the bathroom and took two pills. "Steve. Bob. Fred. Bocephus. No wonder they hate you so badly." He stood and checked his watch again as I returned and climbed under the covers. "You'll call me if you need anything?"

"Don't I always?" I countered. "Go, Rodney. I'll be up in an hour and _I'll_ come check on _you_. So go already."

"You promise?"

"You're not making my headache any better. Christ, yes, I promise. And you call me a mom," I grunted before rolling onto my side. I pointed at the door and gave him a rapid two count snap I was sure he'd more than recognize. "_Go_."

He walked to the door, looked back over his shoulder at me, and cursed, "Goddamn it." Moving back, he slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed with me. Spooning up behind me, he pressed a kiss to my shoulder and burrowed his face in between my neck and the pillow. "Fifteen minutes. I deserve fifteen fucking minutes and I'm taking them." The words were defiant, muffled, and warm against my skin. He wrapped his arm around my waist tightly, a little too tightly, and held on. I couldn't help but think that he hadn't been able to hold on to Eckhardt or Gall or Grodin. They'd all slipped away. But he could hold on to me.

And I was more than willing to let him.

x x x x x

There are some things that were so familiar, that even in sleep you could recognize them. For me, it was the sprawl of arms and legs that defined John Sheppard. He seemed to be everywhere at once in the bed. One leg under my knee, his other foot resting on my own, an arm across my chest and his head nestled into my shoulder. I lazily turned my head into his, crinkling my nose as it ran into a patch of hair and placed a heavy hand on his bicep. He murmured in his sleep, indistinct, incoherent, but with an obvious touch of humor nonetheless. I smiled, thinking there were definitely worse ways to wake up.

Wake up. My eyes flew open to a dark room. I had just woken up, which meant I had been asleep. Fifteen minutes. I had given myself fifteen minutes to convince myself that John really wasn't hurt, that it really was just a cut and a bump on the head. Fifteen minutes to anchor myself to the reason I got up day in and day out after all I'd seen and experienced instead of curling up in an emotionless ball and simply going through the motions. When I first stepped through the gate to Atlantis, I had done it for the one simple reason, the same that had lured men to climb mountains and explore solar systems… because it was there. But I had stayed and made it my home because_ he_ was here. And if the universe couldn't spare me fifteen minutes to confirm that was still the fact, then to hell with it. But looking around the darkened room, I could tell my fifteen minutes had come and gone a while before.

The simulations! "Oh, shit!" I rolled John off of me with a shove and crawled over him, reaching for the clock on the bedside table. His gun clattered to the floor and thank God he had started leaving the safety on after the last time something like this had happened.

"Jesus Christ, McKay. What the hell are you doing?" He was pushing at me trying to sit up and come to terms with my outburst all at the same time.

I palmed the bizarre contraption that displayed time both in Ancient and with a fascinating little astrological map of the solar system. It was almost one in the morning. "Shit!" Fifteen minutes had somehow morphed into five hours. I crawled the rest of the way over John and out of the bed. "Goddamn it!"

I stood, turning in a circle frantically trying to find my shoes. "What is wrong?" John demanded from the bed. With little conscious thought, the lights blazed on in the room at my command. John placed a hand up to squinting eyes. "What the fuck, Rodney?"

"Sorry," I told him absently as I saw my shoes and all but dove for them. "I fell asleep." I tried to cram my foot into the tied boot, gave up and undid the laces. "I fucking fell asleep. I should have been back in the lab hours ago." I shook my head at the stupidity of it all. "I never fall asleep like that. What the hell?"

John sat up and regarded me with a look part guilt, part condolence and part relief. "I'm sure its fine. It's no big deal."

"You're right, it's no big deal… it's a huge deal, enormous, the mother of all goddamn deals."

"You left Radek and Miko working on the simulations." He tried for a grin. "They probably got more done without you there anyway."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course, I'm sure you're right. They probably already have a team assembled to go to the planet and blow up a few more scientists. Let's see if we can get in a two for one special this time around."

"Rodney…."

"This is my responsibility. Mine, John. No one else's. Any decision as to what we do will come from me and me alone. I'm not throwing the burden of another person's life on anyone else. Not when I already…." Already what? Carried it myself with so much fucking grace and poise? I sighed, then finished with my shoe laces. Because honestly, what was one more on top of all the others. Eyedropper in the ocean, really.

John reached out a hand for me and I stood abruptly. Comfort time was over. Time to go back to work. I bent and planted a quick kiss goodbye on his lips and headed out the door without another word, double timing my way back to the lab with only a short stop to vent my frustrations on a wall along the way.

Radek and Miko were still at it when I got there, Miko giving me one of her soy milk calendar girl grins and Radek doing an admirable job of hiding his annoyance. "Colonel Sheppard is okay?" he asked, his voice flat with exhaustion and irritation.

"He'll live," I told him without meeting his eyes. "Don't know if I can say the same for Kavanagh, but that walking proof of fecal sentience is the least of my worries right now." I crossed my arms and studied my recently laced boots. "Sorry, I got... tied up."

Radek frowned at me and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Yes, well overly informative excuse of kinky bondage activities aside, we have made progress you should see."

I considered myself lucky that was all he had to say and turned my full attention to the quick briefing to bring me up to speed. Two hours later, I sent Miko and Radek home to their respective beds. Crisis or not, they were becoming useless to me without sleep. Miko's eyes had become so owlish, I thought they were going to outgrow the frames of her oversized glasses. And after Radek explained the same concept to me for the third time, in Czech no less, I had them call it a night… day... whatever it was by now.

I stayed by myself, quietly studying the holographic diagram of the grid, calculating energy flows and fluxes on my calculator, trying to find a way to get in front of the cascade failure that had already started that was resulting in a smaller and smaller shielded area, then figure out how to repair the damage already done. And if at all possible keep anyone from triggering an overload simply by opening a hatch.

I ran the simulation for what had to be the one hundredth time of what had happened when the substation that killed Eckhardt had blown. I watched the power surge out then back into the substation to cause the overload. Radek had pointed it out, how odd it had been that the surge seemed to bounce off the other station and rebound back. Like a bank shot in pool that was just too much for the capacitors in the doomed station to handle. Something had protected the one substation and our theory was that it had malfunctioned in the other. It was also our theory that whatever shielding had been protecting the substation had failed as a result of opening the panel… a spark, a rub of metal on metal, a loose connection that finally gave way with the slight jar of opening the door and it had caused the failure, which in turn caused the surge, which in turn bounced back and caused the explosion.

And now all the substations downstream of the damaged one were only receiving minimal power and those upstream were overloading because they couldn't move the power that would normally go to the downstream units out. We needed to reconfigure the grid, change the flow from the direction it was going to something that would better distribute the power that remained. But how?

With a frustrated sigh, I picked up my cup of coffee and took a sip of the already cold beverage then put it back down where it had been sitting between the two dessert plates with a few cake crumbs on them. I tilted my head, picked up the cup again, studied the empty spot and smiled. The shortest distance between two points…. We needed to streamline the grid, take out the substations that were causing roadblocks and move power between a select few. And if we took them out just right, we might be able to form a sort of firebreak and stop the cascading failure. I began the arduous task of calculating the possible reroutes, which really became a guessing game that needed to be confirmed with calculations. I worked for what seemed just an hour or so, when Radek came back into the lab.

"Why the hell are you back?" I asked with little more than a glance up from my laptop. "I sent you home to sleep."

"I did. Unlike you, I do not have sexy Air Force Colonel to otherwise occupy my time in bed. I slept entire four hours I was gone."

"Four hours?" Time really was getting away from me today. "Well, I'm glad you're back. I think I've finally cracked this hellacious nut. Just let me finish these calcs and I'll show you what I've got."

I went back to work even as Radek began looking over my preliminary notes. "But I do not understand how you intend to bypass the surge protectors in the upstream substations."

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. "Because there won't be any upstream surge protectors when I'm done with them. Just give me ten more minutes and I'll explain."

"Fine, fine. I will go get breakfast while you finish rewriting laws of physics to meet your needs."

He stood to go, but John's voice halted him in his tracks. "No need, Dr. Z, I'm delivering this morning."

He sat a tray with three meals and three cups of coffee on the workbench. "Oh, thank God," I groaned as I took one of the cups. Ever since the Daedalus had started delivering coffee supplies on a regular basis, the general attitude on Atlantis had improved. John claimed that the science staff had taken a vote and decided that they would rather use the cargo space on the ship for coffee instead of computer data storage, mainly because I was less likely to rip someone's arm off and use it to beat the person standing next to them if I was properly caffeinated. And actually, I couldn't argue with that logic.

"You're welcome," John drawled at my lack of manners. "But the coffee is only part of the package. Eat."

He pointedly sat a plate of fruit, Athosian flat bread, and eggs in front of me. I pushed it aside, barely registering it as I continued working on my laptop. "I'll eat in a minute."

"Eat now," he told me with authority as he pushed the plate back in front of me. "No telling how long it's been since you ate something."

"I ate what you brought by last night."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Anything besides your dessert?"

I lifted by chin. "Yes."

John maintained eye contact with me with a raised eyebrow. "Dr. Z?"

Radek looked up from his own plate of breakfast that he was quickly devouring. "Yes, also ate Miko's dessert and part of mine before I pried it from his hands. I have fork prong marks to prove it."

I glared at Radek. I had had full intention of eating the rest of the meal after I finished my cake and I would have if I hadn't learned that Kavanagh had been seen bolting from the jumper bay, where he had been running jumper checks with John, with a spreading wet spot on the front of his pants and an air sick bag plastered to his face. And since Beulah was still on KP duty at the time, that left only one explanation as to what had happened.

"German Chocolate cake doesn't count as food, Rodney."

"It's digested by the body, converted to energy and waste products… by definition it's food."

He crossed his arms, glowered, and tilted his head toward the plate. "Eat."

I sighed, took a bite of eggs and raised my arms in exasperation. "There. Has enough of the food pyramid enter my digestive tract that you will leave me alone so I can finish working here?"

"I'm not going anywhere until you finish everything on that plate." He sauntered over to where Radek sat finishing off the last of his fruit and leaned against the table with a victorious grin. He waved a hand at my meal. "Eat up."

I rolled my eyes, took another bite, and turned back to my laptop. From behind me, I heard John ask Radek about the metal cylinder sitting on the other work bench. "Is some sort of medical equipment. Text is very vague. It is for treatment of emotional trauma, does something to memory. Rodney thinks is broken. No one can get it to work."

And then he said it. "Oh, well, since I'm here maybe I should give it a try."

"Don't even think about it!" I stood and walked over to stand between him and the device. "And whatever you do, don't think _at_ it. Have you learned nothing about touching things? I have way too much to do to deal with getting the damn stasis chamber up and running again." I picked up the cylinder, intent on moving it away from him and over by me so that I could keep a close eye on it. The unit glowed to life at my touch. My eyes widened in surprise as John's brow furrowed.

Radek stood and took a step toward me. "Rodney, how did you do that? It did not work when you touched it before."

But I really couldn't answer. The room was wavering around me, tilting drunkenly before righting itself. Only it wasn't right. Everything seemed different, similar but different. "John?" I asked in confusion, because I was sure that was his name, but it just didn't seem right any more.

The cylinder dropped from my hand to roll across the bench top as a sharp throbbing blossomed behind my right eye, accompanied by a burst of white. I grabbed my head with a wordless exclamation of pain and staggered back.

Sheppard grabbed my arm in alarm. "Rodney!"

My knees buckled and I collapsed to the floor. I could hear a voice calling for a medical team in a thick accent and I decided it must be that Czech engineer; his name was right on the tip of my tongue… something with a Z… Zeleena? Zaloonka? But I was having trouble thinking clearly and couldn't seem to remember for some reason.

I felt a hand enclose mine, a brush of fingers on my face. "Rodney? Come on, wake up."

Encouraged by the voice, I fought against the murk that was pulling at me and forced my eyes open. A face swam into view, worry melting away to relief as I blinked heavily. "Hey," Sheppard smiled, pulling my hand to his chest and squeezing. He ran his thumb across my forehead as if clearing away a wisp of hair. "It's too early in the morning to be scaring me like this."

I blinked again, fighting to hold the growing grayness at bay for a while longer, but failing miserably. I creased my brow in confusion at the familiarity Sheppard was exhibiting. "Major?" I asked in search of an explanation.

But the fuzziness took hold and the last thing I heard before it all went black was Zaloonka asking, "Did he just call you Major?"

x x x x x

He'd fallen…not like a ton of bricks or a bag of wet cement—none of those stupid cliches. He'd fallen slowly and almost as if he'd forgotten how to stand. He had staggered and that evil rotten piece of Ancient shit had rolled out of his fingers and across the table. Then his knees had given out and he'd folded up like a house of cards built by uncertain and untalented fingers. After hitting the floor, he had woken up for a brief second, confused and disoriented, then he had faded . With the faint smudges of weariness under his closed eyes, it almost looked like sleep, not unconsciousness.

The med team had come…did what they do when there isn't anything _to_ do, and here we were.

Here we were.

I ran a thumb across his lightly skinned knuckles. I didn't know if they'd come from his work in the lab last night…yeah, from the oh-so-sharp edges of a holographic projection. More likely from ramming a fist into a wall. Either that or Kavanagh's jaw—and as I hadn't heard any drooling pain-filled demands to stick Rodney in the brig, I was betting it had been the wall. He'd really given himself hell for falling asleep, forgetting it was rumored that he was just as human as the rest of us. I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest under the infirmary sheet.

Just as human all right or he wouldn't be here.

But he looked okay. He did. His color was good. Vitals were near perfect except for a slightly elevated blood pressure, which was the McKay norm. If Carson could keep the top of Rodney's head from blowing off ala Mount Vesuvius on a daily basis, the doc was happy.

Everything was all right. He simply…wouldn't wake up. It had only been an hour and a half. That wasn't long to be unconscious…for no fucking reason. Half of that was Beckett's comment, half mine and I doubted anyone would have to guess which. There was the EEG, the doctor added reluctantly. It was a wee bit off. Very informative, Rodney would have said…loudly and snidely, if he hadn't been sleeping through the whole fucking thing.

I frowned down at his hand in mine, tightened my fingers that were intertwined with his. "I know I'm a sexual god and you can't keep up, but putting you into a coma wasn't part of the plan." I gave his hand a shake. "So wake up already, would you?"

"You could warn a person first, lad," came the vaguely disgruntled brogue at my shoulder, "before you say something so bloody horrifying."

"Then what would be the point of saying it?" I asked with a faint smile that melted away. "Have you figured anything out yet?"

He shook his head and pulled up a chair beside me. "Dr. Zelenka called. He hasn't been able to come up with anything other than what they already knew. It's involved in treating some sort of mental trauma. So I'm holding to the fact it wasn't meant to do harm."

Just one more device the Ancients left lying around to bite us in the ass. They were really good at leaving around their more dangerous toys. And I was really good at picking the goddamn things up. Only this time Rodney beat me to the punch. KO-ed and down he goes.

"Not a good two days for any of us, eh?"

"No," I said, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my eyes with the heel of my free hand. "The memorial service is supposed to be this evening. Maybe they'll postpone it." And maybe it would be better if they didn't.

Before Carson could comment I felt a slight movement of fingers against mine. Immediately I leaned forward. "Rodney?"

His mouth twisted slightly. It wasn't from discomfort or pain. It was another emotion I recognized just as clearly. Crankiness. Rodney didn't sleep as much as me. With his big brain on constant overdrive, pulling off even six hours of sleep was an accomplishment. But on the rare, rare occasion I was up before him, he came out of sleep full of attitude…all bad. And if I had tried the shit he pulled with me, flinging everything in the bathroom not nailed down, he would've ripped something and beat me to death with it…something of mine, of course. Rodney woke up a lot faster than I did, but until he was at the teeth brushing stage it was best to avoid the path of the storm. I was happier than hell to risk it now.

"Rodney," I repeated. Patting his chest lightly, I commanded, "Wake up."

There was an aggrieved exhalation of air and eyelids lifted a bare millimeter to reveal foggy, annoyed blue. "Good lad." Beckett had propelled himself out of his chair to briskly peel one of Rodney's eyelids back. "You're definitely in there then, aren't you?"

A slow hand smacked Carson's away and Rodney muttered, "Go the hell away."

"All right then. That's enough of that." The doctor put a hand on Rodney's shoulder and gave him a gentle but determined shake. "Dr. Rodney McKay, wake up and do it now, if you please. I have more important things to do than moon over your lazy bloated carcass."

And that did the trick. The eyes popped open in outrage. "Bloated? You wretched, sheep castrating…." His voice trailed away as his eyes moved from Beckett's to mine and then to my hand wrapped around his. "Ummm…Major?"

He'd called me that in the lab. He'd been confused…was still confused, but considering the jolt he'd taken it wasn't much of a surprise. "Hey," I said softly before the grin I couldn't restrain curved my lips. "And it's Colonel, remember? I can't go through the whole Colonel Major Major Colonel thing again. Don't torture me, okay?"

"Colonel?" His eyebrows drew together and he snorted. "Right. You wish." His hand moved again under mine and his eyes widened. "Oh God. Oh God. I'm dying. I'm _dying_. I'm in the infirmary and you're holding my hand. What happened? Oh God, how long do I have?" His hand yanked free of mine and he used it to grab Beckett's shirt. "Tell me, all right? I can take it. I can…no. No. I can't _take_ it. Fix me, you son of a bitch. I can't die. If I die, Atlantis is toast, do you hear me? Soggy, disintegrating toast. And I don't care what Gall says; he's no competition for my genius." He shook him. "Cure me, you rattle-shaking Dr. Bombay. It's for your own good."

Gall. He said Gall. He said major and Gall and he was different. He was…I slammed the lid on that thought before I could even get a glimpse of it. I didn't want to see it and I didn't want to know.

But Beckett wasn't into self-delusion. He pried the hand from his shirt, but kept a reassuring grip on Rodney's wrist. "Rodney, calm down" he ordered firmly, "and tell me the last thing you remember."

He knew and I refused to.

"The last thing I remember?" he sputtered. "What kind of question…oh for God's sake. It was the briefing. We had the briefing on the space station." He looked at me sharply. "You said you'd let me fly, Major. I don't care what's happened, you're not backing out of that. So take the fuzzy dice and the naked lady mud-flaps down." Sitting up, he folded his arms. "What happened? Did Gall slip some lemon into my coffee? He so has it in for me, the jealous little shit. He wants to name the space station; can you grasp the massive ego of that? When obviously I, as head of science, have that…."

He was still talking. I could see his mouth moving, but I couldn't hear anything. Anything at all.

A year and a half. He'd lost over a year and a half.

I stood. I couldn't feel the floor under my feet anymore than I could hear, but I walked. It was only twenty feet to the small infirmary bathroom and I closed the door behind me. I braced my hands on the shallow glass bowl that passed for a sink and hung my head. Okay. It wasn't that bad. He'd lost some time, but he wasn't hurt and Dr Z and Carson would be able to fix this. They would. If an Ancient device could do it, it could undo it. Look how well everything else of theirs worked. ZPMs that wouldn't hold a charge. Personal shields that would ignore your conscious and listen to your sneaky subconscious. Stasis booths that overloaded if you looked at them cross-eyed. Control chairs that were as about useful as a barcalounger. Poison coated glass they left on a fucking _shelf_. I'm sure they wouldn't have any problem with this goddamn gem.

There wasn't anything in there to break. Not one fucking thing. The glass sink was indestructible and there was no mirror to smash. Instead I splashed water on my face, straightened my spine, and got my ass back where it belonged. Rodney was the one in trouble, not me. He was the one who needed help, all he could get, and that included mine.

When I returned, Beckett was on the other side of the infirmary. He was probably calling in Radek or informing Dr. Weir. Rodney…Rodney was still in bed, still with arms folded defensively and still annoyed as hell…on the surface. Underneath that, he was scared. And why wouldn't he be?

"You look the same," he said, nervously shifting his shoulders and twitching toes under the sheets. "Carson said it's been a year and nine months. But you look the same. Same hair. Still skinny. The Colonel thing though…." He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "That was quick. What the hell did you do? Date some General's daughter?"

"Not quite. There was a hive ship, a bomb…never mind." I let it go. It wasn't the best memory to bring up by any stretch of the imagination.

"Then it's true? Carson isn't trying to seek revenge on me. The paranoid delusions of a tiny mind haven't sent him over the edge?" He tried so hard to be blasé…coolly accepting, but he was panicking deep down. Panicking hard and so was I…no matter how I gave my all in trying not to show it. I automatically reached out a hand for him and then aborted the motion by letting it drop to the bed.

"What's that?" His hand captured my wrist in a tight grip. The ring on his hand was separated from the one on mine by inches. "Oh…oh, you've _got_ to be kidding. This is a joke. Damn it, you son of a bitch, you two really had me going. You can't just go around…."

I cut him off, "It's not a joke, Rodney. It's…fuck, it's not a joke, okay?"

He let go of my wrist as if I had the most radioactively rabid case of cooties known. As if touching me burned him with an acid sear. "It's not a…it's not a…what do you mean it's _not_ a joke?" He paled. He literally paled.

"I mean it's not a joke," I said calmly.

"Okay, Major. Seriously. Fun time is over." He pulled off his ring and slapped it defiantly on the blanket over his knees. "You've had your laugh. You've all had your laughs. So could we just cut it the fuck out?" His voice rose more than a little at the end, angry and frantic. He was upset, panicked, and that couldn't be good for him so soon out of unconsciousness.

Looking down at the silver circle on the scratchy blue blanket, I felt the world under me spin and fall away. It hurt. Falling hurt. God, it hurt.

Keep it together, I ordered myself. Keep it together, you stupid, selfish son of a bitch. He's scared and if you lose it, he will too. Scooping up the ring gently, I folded it into my hand and cleared my throat to say hoarsely, "It'll be okay, Rodney. It will. How about I get Dr. Z to come down? He can fill you in on…a lot of things." Things he didn't want to hear from me right now…and those things would be every single thing that would come out of my mouth.

He was watching me with wary eyes. "Dr. who?" he demanded. "What are you talking about? Fill me in on what? Because this is not real." He waved an arm. "All of this…it can't be real. Almost two years? You and m….it can't be. It can't."

Funny. It had seemed real.

Shock, and didn't it feel just the same as the kind that swept over you in a freezing flood from being lung shot? There was the same lack of air. The same rapidly escalating heartbeat. The numbness that tingles in your extremities.

I squeezed his shoulder lightly…as a friend. Warm, fleeting, full of camaraderie and nothing else. "Dr. Radek Zelenka. He's your right-hand geek." It was my second smile since Rodney had woken up. This one had nothing to do with the sheer relief of the first one. "Relax, Rodney. It'll be okay." And if I said it enough fucking times, it would be true.

I didn't come back with Radek. I stayed out in the hall for an hour and gave them time. I gave myself time too. I sat in the corridor, my back to the wall and my head in my hands. People came and went. No one spoke to me. What the hell could they say? Weir knew now and Beckett and Radek…that meant everyone knew. Radek couldn't keep a secret to save his life. If Teyla hadn't been off planet, she would've come. If Ford…but Ford was gone. Great. More good news to break. Finally I couldn't put it off any longer. Standing, I moved back into the infirmary. Both Beckett and Zelenka were talking to Rodney, who was looking bullish, stubborn, and shell-shocked.

"Look, Zaloonka," he was saying.

"It's Zelenka, Rodney," Dr. Z corrected patiently. "You finally learn my name about time you accept my superior scientific skill."

Eyes rolled. "Fine, I'll accept my memory of the last two years is gone, but that I will _never_ buy."

"So, any progress?"

Radek started at my voice and looked over his shoulder at me. His pale eyes blinked at me from behind his glasses with muted sympathy. "Progress seems to be finding as time changes Rodney does not. He is an ass in any year."

But he had changed and wasn't that the problem.

Beckett gave me something a little more useful. "We've decided it's most likely not a side-effect of the Ancient device, but its actual purpose. Dr. Zelenka and I've put our heads together. If the bloody device is somehow linked to mental trauma, it makes a twisted bit of sense that it would make one forget what triggered the trauma. It's not the sense attributed to our psychological care certainly, but who know what the Ancients standard of care was."

"Great. Fine. Good for them. How the hell do we get his memory back?" I asked flatly.

"On that we're not so sure," Zelenka answered apologetically. "And actually we should…work, yes?" He jerked his head not so subtly at Beckett and Carson instantly followed him off.

And Rodney looked like he wished he could've followed. "Look," he said instantly…awkwardly. "They say, you know, it's…what it is. But I don't remember any of it. I remember movies and hanging out with my friend and trying to keep you from getting killed and you keeping me from getting killed, but…." He ran a hand over his hair that was already looking the worse for wear. "You're my friend, Maj…Sheppard. The best damn friend I've ever had, and I have no idea how we got here. No idea and I just can't. I can't. I've lost years. I have no idea what's gone on since I've been gone. Apparently the Wraith have come and gone and we survived, but that's all I can gather. I need to work on getting my memories back and this…this just…."

I nodded. "I know. I do," I said simply. "Don't worry about it, McKay. Work on remembering. Everything else will take care of itself."

And that's when I noticed it. Really noticed. I was gone. When I looked at McKay, I could always see myself. I was the event…the rock in a pool of water. I saw the ripples of my existence in Rodney's face. Annoyance, affection, warmth, exasperation, admiration, worry, invitation…a thousand things. They'd been there when we were only friends, but to a much lesser degree. Rodney had been good at hiding what he didn't want people to see. Panic, fear, outrage…all that was visible for anyone to see, but the other emotions he'd been good at keeping under cover. But what I saw now…what I **had** seen was so much more. And now….

I was gone. There were pieces of me left floating in that water…pilot, smart-ass soldier, guy who saves the geeks' asses, but John, the whole John…the entire John, was gone.

Gone.

He looked relieved at my words and grateful. "Well…good. I'm glad that's settled."

"Settled." I showed my teeth in the barefaced lie I was calling a smile now. "So let's get Dr. Z and Beckett and…."

"Wait," he said hurriedly. "Could you…they won't tell me. I keep asking about Brendan and Abrams, about the mission, and they won't tell me anything. What happened? Christ, how the hell did we survive the Wraith for that matter?"

Let the fun begin.

Hours later when I left, Rodney was asleep. Exhausted by tests and more bad news than anyone should have to hear in one setting, it was the best thing for him. Mouth open slightly, he was curled up on his side, arm dangling over the mattress, sheet around his knees. I stood stiffly from the chair, hearing joints crack from long inaction. Snagging the sheet, I pulled it up to his waist. Then taking his wrist gently in hand, I moved his arm back to the bed and tucked it against his side. Hesitating, I ran a hand over his short hair to smooth it.

Finally I took his ring out of my pocket and placed it on the small bedside table. There was muted clink…a sound that went through me leaving me hollow and cold. I heard my own voice echo in my mind, 'Mmm. That's a nice sound.' Every morning, every day, I tried to say it. To show Rodney what was hard for me to articulate. Today he had bolted before I could. I wish I'd had time. God, did I wish.

I touched my finger to the cool circle of metal and then I left.

It wouldn't be the last time I did that.

x x x x x

Everything had changed.

As much as I wanted to convince myself that this was all some sort of elaborate joke, I couldn't deny that time had passed and things had most definitely changed. The first sign had been the unfamiliar faces, lots of unfamiliar faces, and the only way to explain that would be the fact that we now had a way to travel between Earth and Atlantis. The second sign had been the absence of familiar ones, way too many faces that had become a common sight in the hall, in the cafeteria, in the lab, were nowhere to be seen. Some had returned to Earth via the gate and the Daedalus, I had been told, others… hadn't. And the less thought about that the better as far as I was concerned.

And now, the third sign that things had changed… I was walking down the hall, escorted by Zaloonka, to the quarters I evidently shared with Sheppard. We had passed the corridor that led to my quarters, correction, my _old_ quarters and continued walking. After a few minutes longer, I finally turned to the engineer acting as my guide. "You are seriously trying to tell me that my quarters are this far from the lab?"

"It was compromise with Colonel," he informed me with a shrug.

Colonel… Sheppard was a Lt. Colonel. Not that I didn't believe he could actually be Lt. Colonel material, it was just the fact that as far as I remembered, yesterday morning when I got out of bed he had been a Major and now he was a Lt. Colonel… one that was supposedly _in _my bed yesterday when I actually did get out of it. Just one more thing the less thought about the better.

Except how could I not think about it? What with the weight of Sheppard's gaze whenever he was in the room and the weight of the ring in my pocket. The ring that had been picked up off that bed with such a look of betrayal that I found myself having to stop the words forming on my lips to demand it back and discovered on my bedside table this morning with such a sense of relief that I had immediately palmed it and refused to let go.

I couldn't explain the feelings I had about the ring; I couldn't bring myself to put it back on, but I also wasn't letting it out of my possession ever again. Every time I looked at it, I felt a panic attack coming on, but every time I touched it in my pocket, I caught myself thinking mine all mine. And just what the hell was that all about? That feeling scared me more than just about anything else.

"We are here," the man walking beside me said as we stopped in front of a door. He turned to go and I stopped him, afraid of what I was going to find on the other side of the door. Afraid of _who_ I was going to find. "Look, Zaloonka…"

He sighed and shook his head in exasperation. "Zelenka, Rodney, Zelenka."

"Sorry, it's just a difficult name to remember," I told him with a frown.

"Then call me by first name."

"I thought that was your first name."

He rolled his eyes. "Radek. My first name if Radek. Radek Zelenka."

I crossed my arms. "Look, you'll have to forgive me if I can't remember, but I just lost almost two years of my memories, so a little understanding would be appreciated."

"Arrogant ass. Why anyone like Colonel would…" He stopped himself then continued. "We had worked together many months by the time you can remember. I helped solve pod problem when trapped in jumper in wormhole. I helped solve shield problem during storm. You should remember my name."

"Fine, we've worked together in the past, and evidently in your mind we're practically brothers as a result, so from now on I'll call you Radek." He exhaled but nodded his head. "Radek, would you like to come in?" I asked him with awkward hopefulness. If Sheppard was sitting in the room... and why wouldn't he be if everything I had been told was true… I needed a buffer. And a name-sensitive Czech would do just fine.

He blinked and pushed his glasses up. Then with a look of sympathy shook his head. "He is not in there, Rodney. He moved out… to make it easier."

"When?" Sheppard had been in the infirmary that morning, but mostly lingering in the background as Carson and Zaloo… Radek talked to me more about the device and ran more tests. Occasionally he would step forward, ask a question with an unconscious authority and responsibility for my well being that set my teeth on edge. Because I didn't need him to be responsible, didn't need anyone to be responsible for me. I had been taking care of myself for years, decades. Why the hell would I need someone to do that for me now? But when I was discharged I noticed he was gone and my stomach sank and before I could ask where he was… not that I cared mind you, but curiosity was winning over… Radek had me cornered asking questions about a grid system that I had been working on before the memory loss.

"This morning, not long ago, it does not matter."

"Oh," I said as relief and disappointment flooding me. And the dichotomy of the emotions left me as confused and frustrated as the damned ring that I realized I had clenched in my hand in my pocket.

"I understand it is difficult to overcome galactic-size ego of McKay, but try to see that this affected more than just you."

I frowned defensively and forced myself to release the grasp. "Thank you for pointing out the blatantly obvious."

I had lost my memories, not my eyesight, and anyone not in a comatose state could take one look at Sheppard and see how hard he was working to hold it together. And it totally sucked, because he was a good guy, a hell of a guy, and although the thought of what we supposedly were was absolutely ludicrous, he completely and firmly believed it and it was tearing at his insides. No one deserved that. But what the hell was I supposed to do about it? Be a pal and pretend? No fucking way; both literally and figuratively. Move out myself? That was what I had intended to do, but dreaded worse than a Wraith scouting party. I had seen the reaction when I took the ring off, the goddamned ring that I noticed I was once again working back onto my finger in my pocket. I couldn't imagine how he would react to me packing a bag to move out. And an emotionally vulnerable Sheppard was almost scarier than losing my memories in the first place. It went against everything I had come to expect from him… cockiness, confidence, determination, strength, a boyishly cavalier attitude that had obviously landed him in hot water on more than one occasion. That smart ass wall that I had slammed up against time and time again had crumbled and I now found tripping through the rubble was more dangerous than trying to beat it down in the first place.

"I just thought you might want to discuss the grid problem some more." I told him a little too defensively. "If what you say is true, that I had solved the problem before I lost my memories, then I could probably solve it again. In fact, I should probably go back to the lab…"

He shook his head. "I will figure it out from the archaic chicken scratching you left behind. Probably would not work anyway, once you had finished final calculations. You have become sloppy over the years, relying more and more on me to make sure your mistakes were kept to minimum."

"I've lost my memories, not my intelligence, which you are majorly insulting if you think I will believe any of that bullshit you were just shoveling."

He laughed forlornly. "Perhaps you are right, Rodney. But you are to stay here. Dr. Heightmeyer believes that being in familiar place could trigger some memories. You should spend time in quarters, regain memories, then come tell me what brilliant idea you had before you erased your mental hard drive with the device."

"Fine. I'll look around, then come by the lab. It hasn't moved has it?"

"No, is still in same place." He started down the hall. "If you need anything find someone else to help. I am much too busy correcting all your mistakes in lab to play babysitter." But he smiled in a completely unfamiliar familiar way to show he was joking then continued down the corridor and out of sight.

Well, here I was… alone outside the door to my quarters. No reason to just stand here… Noooo reason at all. Yeah… I should go in. I mean what could be so bad in there? Okay, the frightening image of scattered sex toys and mounds of gay porn that shot through my head for one thing.

"Oh, for God's sake, this is ridiculous," I muttered as I activated the door with a thought and stepped into… a typical Atlantean residential quarters. It wasn't that much different from my old quarters. A little larger and a hell of a lot neater, but nothing out of the ordinary. Although the Ancients had evidently had larger apartment like dwellings in the outer arms of the city, the residencies closer to the control room were set up like studio apartments, one large room with a bathroom and closets. This one was roomy enough for a large bed pushed up against a wall on one side of the room nearest the bathroom and a small sitting area with sofa and coffee table and bookshelves on the other. At first glance it seemed normal, nothing out of the ordinary.

I perused the bookshelf, all my text and reference books in place. A laptop sat on the table, its screen open and a few DVDs were stacked beside it. Movies I hadn't even heard of but were probably brought over in someone's luggage on the Daedalus. I moved to the opposite side of the room and opened the top drawer of the dresser that sat next to the neatly made bed to find it half full of socks and underwear, all mine. The next drawer was completely empty, the next completely full of my clothes. The closet was the same way, only my clothes, all pushed to one side.

Yep, everything seemed perfectly normal, if you didn't take into account that my books seemed to slump awkwardly were they sat, as if they had lost their main support, that I would never want to watch any of the movies by the laptop, that my clothes seemed to have been abandoned and cowering in the corner of the closet, that I had never made a bed in my life, and that the empty spot on the bedside table seemed to draw my eyes like a magnet to something that I was subconsciously looking for but had no idea what it was.

But if I didn't think too hard about it, then it didn't seem that odd. And I was doing pretty good, not thinking about that empty dresser drawer, when I walked into the bathroom and saw them. Fuck. How could I ignore those? How could I ignore what they meant? How could I ignore something as domestically comfortable as two toothbrushes resting in a single cup above the sink? Two goddamn toothbrushes leaning against each other in perfect contentment. And the part that sent the biggest flush of panic through me was that I didn't know which one was mine and which one was his, but I knew with every fiber of my being that one of them was his and it was right the hell where it was supposed to be.

I turned quickly on my heels and left the bathroom. This was… this was… this was fucked up, totally and completely fucked up. I found I was gripping the ring again, pulled it out of my pocket and shoved it on my finger. Yeah, so totally fucked up. I bolted for the door, moving all the faster when I glanced down and saw a wadded up Johnny Cash poster in the trash can. I needed to talk to someone, but my automatic first choice was completely out of question, besides I had no idea where he had moved. So I went with my second choice and headed for the infirmary.

By the time I reached his office, the urge to hyperventilate had subsided but I must have still had a bit of wide eyed panic on my face. Carson looked up from the files he was going over on his desk with an alarmed, "Rodney, what's the matter?"

I suddenly felt foolish, but there was no way of getting out of it now. "I, uh… I need a new toothbrush," I told him lamely.

"A toothbrush?"

"Yes, you know, dental hygiene and all that. A toothbrush, a goddamn toothbrush, Carson. Do you have one or not?"

"Aye, they're back in the storeroom," he reassured me as he came around the desk and guided me toward the door with a steady hand on my back. "Let's go get one."

We walked across the infirmary and entered a large supply closet. Carson busied himself rummaging for the toothbrush as he asked me, "Not that you would remember, but I just gave you one a few weeks ago. Is there a problem with that one?"

I sunk to a stool that sat next to the shelf. "There are two."

"Two?"

"Two toothbrushes in my bathroom, and I don't know which one is mine."

"Ah," he said simply then sat on the floor beside me as he handed over a new packaged toothbrush.

I took the small box and hesitated. "I just don't get this Carson, how this could really be true about me and Sheppard."

"Well, you know what they say, opposites attract and such."

I shrugged. "It's not so much what's opposite about us that is confusing, it's what's the same."

"Oh," then with dawning realization he gave me a surprised look, "_Oh!_"

"Yeah, Oh!"

He sat silent for a second then with a slight grimace regarded me. "Really?"

"What do you mean, really? Of course, really. Really, really."

He frowned in thought. "You mean before… back on Earth… you never… with a man…"

"No! Christ, Carson, don't sound so surprised."

"Well, we just assumed…"

"Then you assumed wrong," I told him pointedly. "I mean there were a few dry spots along the way back on Earth that I thought it might be a good idea, but never seriously…" I shook my head quickly and let out a small nervous laugh. "I can assure you, that if what you and the Czech guy…"

"Radek," he corrected me.

I sighed. "Radek… if what the two of you told me is true, then I can safely say that Sheppard was the first man I so much as kissed, much less…" I waved a hand. "… anything else."

Carson winced but said nothing. "What?" I demanded.

He shook his head in dismissal. "'Tis nothing."

"And that usually means its something." Carson actually blushed and I groaned inwardly. "Oh, God, there was someone else, wasn't there? I don't fucking believe this. I couldn't get a date on Earth to save my life, but I come here and evidently turn into the base trollop, a man-whore for the masses."

Carson was shaking his head, but I ignored him and grabbed the sleeve of his lab coat. "Please tell me it wasn't one of the marines. I mean Sheppard is bad enough, but at least he can integrate on demand."

"Rodney it wasn't like that. It was your body, but someone else had control of it at the time. And it was just a kiss."

"What do you mean someone else had control of my body?"

"Someone else's consciousness was downloaded into your body along with your own. A young woman who acted on a few impulses when she wrangled control from you."

I grimaced. "So, uh, who'd I… she kiss?"

He smiled with a weak shrug. I instantly let go of his labcoat and stood, leaning heavily against the shelf as I fought not to lose my breakfast. "Oh, you have got to be shitting me!"

"Well, it wasn't exactly a bloody stroll through the garden on my part either," he demanded defensively.

I buried my head in my crossed arms on a pile of folded hospital scrubs. "This day just goes from bad to worse. First Sheppard and now you."

He patted me on the shoulder. "Lad, I can't argue about your opinion of our… intimacies." I swallowed thickly at the word. "But I can with your assessment of your relationship with the Colonel." I raised my head enough to peek at him with one wary eye. "I've never known you to be happier, Rodney."

"I just have a hard time believing that, Carson," I told him honestly.

He smiled sadly then hitched his chin toward my hand. "Is that why you put your wedding ring back on, then?"

I sat back down with a sigh, fingering the silver band. "I have no idea why I did it. It just… feels right. Just like my room feels empty. This rational part of my brain keeps saying this can't be right, but there's something else…" I threw my arms up in exasperation. "All I know is that I don't remember it, any of it, and until I do I just can't accept it."

"That bloody device may have taken your memories, but it obviously didn't take the emotions that went along with them. And I think that's an encouraging sign."

"Oh, really? And just why is that?"

"Because it makes me think that you haven't lost your memories so much as repressed them… until you can deal with the trauma you have to deal with."

"What trauma? No one said anything about me suffering a trauma."

Carson crossed his arms and gave me one of his clinical assessments. "Well, given what had happened the day before you touched the device and where you repressed back to, I'd say it was the deaths of members of the science staff."

I swallowed again. I felt dazed whenever I thought over all the names that Sheppard had told me had died, numb. Names I couldn't seem to recall, but a long list nonetheless. So many gone and I couldn't help but wonder if there had been anything that I could have done to stop at least some of them. Who the hell wouldn't want to forget? "So, you think that if I come to grips with all the deaths, then I'll get my memories back, just like that? Simple, huh? Piece of cake."

He shook his head slowly. "No, probably not, but that's not my specialty, it's Kate's. But I'm completely convinced they're locked away in that stubborn head of yours and you have the capacity to get them back."

"Well, then, happy day, there's light at the end of the tunnel after all. Hopefully it's not a bunch of dead relatives waiting to welcome us."

He gave another sad smile and patted my shoulder. "Thanks," I told him holding up the toothbrush but meaning so much more.

"You're welcome." Then he walked back to his office.

I made my way out of the infirmary trying to cling to the hope that it was just a matter of time before my memories came back on their own. Trying to remind myself that that was a good thought, a happy thought. But with Teyla still back on that planet, and an entire population on the brink of extinction and Sheppard living God only knew where in the city, it was hard to be happy about anything at all.

x x x x x

"A nuclear bomb? You went on a fucking suicide run straddling a bomb **_I_** made, you stupid bastard? Tell me it isn't true, okay? Tell me you are not that mind-boggling idiotic, I beg you. Tell me, go on. I'm listening. I'm all ears. Look at them flap, just waiting to hear one word from you that will have me wanting to hit you just a little goddamn less."

I'd opened the door to my new…to my temporary quarters to see a red-faced astrophysicist standing there, his fist still raised from pounding. A finger had extended from the fist to slam into my chest and the tirade had begun. I did my best not to physically stagger under a sense of homesickness. I'd never known you could be homesick for a person…that my life, my existence, my goddamn everything could become so wrapped up in one loud-mouthed, brilliant, egotistical son of a bitch. I stepped back…away from his finger and away from him. I just needed a few feet of space. Enough to keep my equilibrium. And while I was doing those things, the smart things, I couldn't help the parts of me that refused to distance themselves. I felt my face brighten as my lips curved. Traitor adrenaline had my chest tightening painfully.

"Actually," I corrected calmly, "a Genii scientist made it. You just put the finishing touches on it. And you already hit me. Weir hugged me and you hit me." I lifted rueful eyebrows. "It was a weird day all the way around."

"Genii?" he snorted dismissively. "I've seen their technology, remember? At best they built a firecracker in a pretty titanium casing. So…God, just shut up for a second and let me process the fact I almost killed you." He pushed past me into the room and whirled to fold arms and present his stiff back to me. After a few moments of silence he turned back and fixed me with an uncertain gaze that immediately dropped to the floor. "So where'd I hit you? Stomach? Jaw? Kick you in the knee? What?"

"Nose." I went back to the bed I hadn't bothered to get sheets and a blanket for. I'd slept on bare mattress last night. I didn't want a blanket or anything else. Putting those on made it real…made it an actual _bed_, and I wasn't sleeping in a bed without Rodney. No fucking way.

I sat and finished reassembling the nine-mil. I had been cleaning it when the knock on the door had come. Doing that, for the fifth time now, had kept me from showing up at the lab like I did several times everyday. Instead of that, I'd concentrated on tearing my gun down and breathed the smell of cleaning fluid. You might forget your toothbrush, but you never forgot your gun oil. I looked up at him as I slammed the magazine home. "Everything okay, Rodney?" I asked, concerned. "I thought you would've been in the lab by now. Even in two years that hasn't changed." I made the effort to keep my smile despite the sliver of worry. I might be lost without Rodney, but he was lost period. He needed all the reassurance I could give him. And chances were he wasn't going to say, hey, nice you moved out, but you know what? Not far enough. I hear there's a five o'clock to the mainland. I bought you a ticket.

"Your nose?" he echoed distractedly with an expression of both horror and amusement that rippled across his face. "I hit you in the nose? Really? Well, it certainly sounds like you deserved it. When Zal…when Radek told me what you'd done…." This time a different expression appeared—this one was harder to read, and it disappeared so quickly that I didn't get a chance to. "And I was in the lab…being massively nonproductive." He frowned. "Apparently I've become even more brilliant over the years, because I have nothing. Absolutely nothing. I can't even decipher my own notes. It's very annoying and I imagine it'll be more annoying to those doomed on planet Gouda." He grimaced. "And that little Japanese girl keeps crying all over me. I think my lab coat has shrunk two sizes already."

"It really did take you a helluva long time to be bothered with names, didn't it?" But he'd never had a problem with mine. Granted, John Sheppard wasn't that difficult a name, but it warmed a part of me anyway. I stood and slid the gun into my holster. "It's Miko. You broke her heart, you know, when…." I cut myself off abruptly and exhaled as he began to shift his weight nervously from foot to foot. "Sorry."

He ignored the apology and the cause, looking around the room. Except for the bare bed and a few garbage bags I hadn't unpacked yet, it was empty. "Nice place. Very…spare." And when it hit him why it was so damn spare, he added hurriedly, "Almost zen. Good feng shui for a military man, I'm guessing." His eyes slid towards mine then skittered away. "I went to your old room looking for you, but some peach fuzz lieutenant with a speech impediment was living there. I had to track your ATA signature down through the computer, which was remarkably uncooperative. Some moron was running a horribly inefficient diagnostic program on it. Almost criminal in its redundancy."

"That's a West Virginian accent, McKay, not a speech impediment," I snorted, "and you've made it clear what you think of Grodin's replacement. Control is on their third computer guy now. After you drove the one to a balcony and a long, long drop, not many want the job." Which brought us to the subject at hand. "Talked to Dr. Heightmeyer yet?"

He folded his arms and responded defensively, "It's not as if I haven't wanted to. I've been a little busy, okay? There's a crisis. There's always a crisis, right? As soon as I work out how to save an entire race of cheese-meisters, I'll promptly run off and let Kate un-traumatize me. All of that shouldn't take more than…oh, ten or so minutes. Save planet, deal with losing people I respected and was responsible for, get my memories back. What could be simpler?" He moved a hand up to his face and rubbed hard at his forehead over his right eye.

Crisis. Always a crisis…the same thing he had said the day before yesterday. Unfortunately, I knew it wasn't a memory, only an observation on our precarious lives in the Pegasus galaxy.

"Hey," I said with false cheer, watching with increased worry as lines of pain appeared beside his mouth, "how about we grab some lunch? Twenty minutes of nothing but food and bitching about how hands that touched Kavanagh's dick should be amputated, not fixing our meals. Things will seem better after that. I know nothing refreshes you like food and snark."

"Well, things couldn't seem worse, that's for sure" he sighed. "And I'm not going to buy anyone sleeping with Kavanagh, not even a doughy cafeteria lady in a hairnet. So forget about it. I lost my memory, not my ability to reason. Besides I really don't have the time. I just came to bring you this." He put his hand in his lab coat pocket and pulled out two toothbrushes. "You forgot it," he said awkwardly, shoving them both into my hand. "Only I couldn't…I didn't know which one was yours. But you left it and I know you need a toothbrush, right? The world can fall apart around your ears, but dental hygiene is always important. You wouldn't want Dr. Bartleson gassing you and molesting you under the guise of a root canal. I'm assuming he, his gold medallion, and that godawful, mustard gas quality cologne of his are still around. No Wraith would touch a meal that smelled like eau de disco sweat."

He'd showed up on the pretense of a toothbrush. I felt the flare of hope sharpen. Yeah, Beckett and Dr. Z were saying once the trauma was dealt with Rodney would get his memories back, but blue sky optimism was a rare luxury out here. And sometimes faith was harder to come by than ZPMs. I was trying; I was trying like hell, but I'd take all the help I could get. I looked down at the two brushes in my hand, one blue and one green, and then gave Rodney a sly smile. "Cooties?"

He flushed bright red and pressed his lips together tightly. "Oh, I like that. I try to do a good deed, track you down to the slums of Atlantis." That would be any floor that his lab was _not_ on. "And this is the thanks I get. Mockery."

"Come on, Rodney." I fought the urge to throw an arm over his shoulders and instead bounced the brushes on my palm. "You wouldn't want anything else. If I gave you sympathy, you'd eat me alive. You're a shark. Sharks eat cute little fluffy sympathetic bunnies. Yeah, you'd eat me, and if I told you how you tattooed my name on your ass, you'd skin me alive." I grinned. "Before running to Beckett for a skin graft."

"Tattoo? _Tattoo_? I did not. I **_so_** did not, you lying…." He caught the grin on my face and snorted. "It's nice to know you haven't changed in two years. Your asshole quality can still be used as a constant in any equation." He gave me that crooked quirk of lips and then said sincerely, "I'd miss this, you know? Hell, even now I miss it. You're staying away and I know it's to make me more comfortable and I appreciate the effort, I do. But I miss my friend." He scowled. "I miss _you_, damn it. And I want to know…." He hesitated then plunged on. "I want to know that if something goes wrong—that if I don't get my memory back…and we're just friends again, will you be okay with that? Because I really don't want to lose that. I don't. So, I just…." He blew out a hard breath and repeated anxiously…demandingly, "Will you be okay with that?"

And like that the faith and hope went down in flames. One shot from Rodney and I was hurtling towards hard earth with no ejection seat…no parachute.

"Actually, Rodney, no, I won't." My lips were numb and the words came through thickly. "I won't be fucking okay with that." In fact I was so not fucking okay with it that I planned on going to go to the gym to beat the hell out of any marine willing to step onto the mat. And there was no time like the present. I dropped the toothbrushes on the floor, turned on my heel and walked through the door.

Behind me, I heard, "Sheppard, wait. I didn't mean…well, I meant it, but only if I never get…."

I was sure he kept talking, but after I mentally triggered the door to shut in his face I didn't have to hear what it was he said. And that was the first good thing to happen to me today.

An hour later I was staring up at the ceiling of the gym as it spun lazily in one direction and then the other. It was the same as most ceilings in Atlantis, high with lots and lots of stained glass. Orange mostly. It always looked like sunset, no matter what time of day it was. The sun arrowed through the tinted glass and blossomed dark amber, a shade lighter than blood. Sometimes it was…hell, beautiful, and sometimes it was depressing as fuck. Like now.

"Colonel?"

I rolled my head to one side and looked to the right. Radek stood there, eyebrows furrowed. "Need something, Dr. Z?"

"Well, yes. I have been calling on com, but…do you know you have black eye?" He touched a finger to the skin under his own eye and winced. "Is huge."

"You should see the other guys," I dismissed. Sitting up, I reached for the towel lying next to me and wiped sweat from my face and neck. "Sorry about not answering. My com bit the dust about forty minutes ago." I'd remembered to take it out, but one particularly beefy marine had been tossed onto it shattering the fairly sturdy mechanism into nearly microscopic bits. "What can I do for you?" The dizziness had subsided and although my ribs and eye ached I wasn't really any the worse for wear after my workout. The three marines had hobbled out, bitching and swearing though, which made me think maybe they needed the practice time with Teyla and Dex far more than I did. Pussies.

"Ah, need escort to shield planet. We are not making progress. I know Rodney…before…did not want anyone to go, but I need to see apparatus for self, see if computer miss something." He took off his glasses to wipe them very thoroughly with a tissue from his pocket and murmured casually, "Thought maybe you appreciate field trip now."

I shot him a glance and twitched my lips wryly at the knowing light in his eyes. "Yeah, maybe I could."

He watched as I stood and stretched with a bit of cussing of my own. "To be a scientist is to seek to define world around us," he offered slowly. "To seek control." Putting his glasses back on, he added matter-of-fact, "Rodney is afraid. He has no control and he is afraid." He clucked a tongue and shook his head. "I miss him, too. Godzilla of egos stomping all lesser egos with big careless feet and still I miss him. Zaloonka. _Kurva_. Zaloonka. Gah. Hmph."

Running a hand over sweaty hair, I snorted with a shadow of dark amusement, "At least he doesn't think you have cooties."

"Obviously you have amnesia, too," he replied with jaundiced gloom. "Rodney think _everyone_ has cooties. That is why he steals your food before you take bite. Otherwise contaminated."

He had me there. Draping the towel around my neck, I said, "Let me grab a shower and I'll meet you in the gate room in fifteen."

Radek frowned. "Not going to say goodbye to Rodney first?"

It was another habit we'd grown into, because you never knew. Shit happened…and people didn't always come back. It wasn't something you dwelled on. It wasn't something you _could_ dwell on and stay sane, but the knowledge was always lurking in the back of your brain. I rarely let any geek go anywhere that was remotely dangerous through the gate without me, Dex, or a butt-load of marines, and even more rarely was I willing to let Rodney do the same. It happened…witness the trip to the space station where Peter had died. But after that it happened a whole lot fucking less. On the other hand, times did come up when it was strictly the goon squad jumping through the gate. I wouldn't say it was frequent, but it was occurring more often now than it ever had in the beginning. Rodney didn't like it, to say the least, but it was the way things sometimes had to be. I always said goodbye, and if he could, Rodney always watched me go. But today….

"I'm not in the mood for goodbyes, Dr. Z. Not now." Not when I could so easily envision it being permanent.

Will you be okay with that? Just being friends…will you?

Fuck.

Precisely fifteen minutes later, I stepped through the gate at Zelenka's side. Almost unconsciously I started to look back over my shoulder, felt my hand start to lift in a wave, but I caught myself at the last minute. Instead, I kept walking. I didn't turn. I didn't look back, because I knew he wouldn't be there.

At least that's what I tried to do and that's what I tried to tell myself. But it was pointless to deny something so strong. I did turn and I did see him. Up on the balcony, he had his hands clasped behind his back and his stubborn chin up. When he saw my eyes on him, he leaned forward to wrap hands around the railing and nod once. And that's when I saw a glint of metal on his hand.

This time I did raise my hand in farewell and the hope that had disappeared came flooding back stronger than ever. I was going to get him back. I was.

And nothing was going to stop me.

_TBC _


	2. Found

**Part 2: Found**

I'd seen Sheppard off from the control room. Partly because it just felt right to do it, but mostly because Radek had told me in a rapid combination of Czech and English as he gathered laptop and field vest from the lab that I wasn't the only chicken-shit coward that he had stumbled across today, but I was the most selfish and that I should go to the control room because the other chicken-shit coward, this one with an impressive black eye, was getting ready to go through the gate.

So, I had gone. And for a moment I didn't think it really mattered if I was there or not, seeing as Sheppard didn't seem interested in looking back from his intended path through the wormhole. In fact, he seemed positively intent on not looking back. But right before he was to step through the gate he turned and blinked, as if surprised to see me. I leaned forward then and let him see my hands and more importantly what I was wearing on the third finger of the left one. I had taken the ring off right before I had knocked on his door because I didn't want him to get the wrong impression, and I had put it back on for my trip to the gate room for the exact same reason. He deserved to know that at least a subconscious part of me believed the same things that he did even if the words confirming those thoughts refused to come out of my mouth. Hell, he _needed_ to know after hearing the words that _had_ come from my mouth in those painfully empty quarters. When he had left…when he had stormed out…well, just suffice it to say that I couldn't really argue with Radek's assessment because I had felt pretty damned selfish and pretty much scared chicken-shitless.

Sheppard's lips had quirked into the faintest of smiles and he had raised a hand in farewell before he was swallowed up by the event horizon and deposited across the galaxy. I had waited until the wormhole winked out of existence, flexed my hands, stuffed them deep in my pockets so I wouldn't have to see the ring, and headed back to the lab.

Four hours and two boxes of tissue later I was still sitting there, handing yet another thin paper over my shoulder to a sniffling Japanese girl.

"Look, Miro…" I started calmly.

"Miko." She blew her nose loudly and I cringed to think of all the germs that she was releasing.

"Miko," I said the name through gritted teeth. I took a deep breath and continued with all the patience I could muster. "You like cheese, right?"

"I'm lactose intolerant," she told me and the sobbing renewed with gusto because evidently I had known that little tidbit of useless personal information before my memory loss.

I considered myself a reasonable man, a patient man, an understanding man. Others may not consider me as such, but I sure as hell did, especially considering the never-ending stream of circus monkeys with PhDs and gorillas with guns doing everything in their power to tap dance on my last nerve day in and day out. But even a reasonable man has his limits, and I had finally reached mine.

"Goddamnit, I really don't care about your inability to digest milk products right now. Because it has absolutely no impact on the consequences of a depleting oxygen supply on a group of people and their pet llamas that are going to die without our help. And to top it off, John and Radek are over there without me, getting into God only knows what kind of trouble, probably touching things they shouldn't be touching. So you need to pull it together, Miko, and stop leaking bodily fluids all over the lab and get to work!"

She blinked behind her glasses then broke into a broad smile. "Dr. McKay, you got our names right."

I blinked right back at her unexpected response to my rampage. "Huh," I considered, "you're right, I did." I smiled proudly and let out a small laugh. "I really did." And for a split second Sheppard and Zelenka had been more important than I had ever realized they could be. Hell, even Miko had seemed more like family than a subordinate… granted she was the shy wallflower cousin that lived with a dozen cats sort of family, but family nonetheless.

"Maybe if you yell at me more, you will remember more," she offered hopefully.

"Maybe," I agreed excitedly. "Let's give it a try." I was just about to lay into her for leaving one of her tissues on the work bench when my radio keyed.

"Dr. McKay, this is Weir, we have an incoming transmission from Colonel Sheppard and the rest of the team. I thought you might like to hear it, as well."

"On my way," I told her and headed for the control room with a giddy promise to return and berate Miko as soon as I was finished.

I had remembered. Granted it was more a fleeting feeling than an actual concrete memory, but at this point I was willing to take what I could get. The same fleeting feeling I had had that morning when I had awakened to find myself sleeping up against the wall and instinctively reached out an arm to the other side of the bed only to feel a moment of panic to touch empty space. As I walked down the hallway, I concentrated, trying to recognize anything else that may have returned. Then they started… Abrams, Gall, Wagner, Johnson, Dumais, Hays… and with the names came a dull pain above my eye, growing stronger with each one. The same pain had started in Sheppard's quarters as well, when I had thought on the burden of my responsibilities, but this time it was stronger and I actually had to stop and put a hand to the wall for support. And just as suddenly as it had come, the pain was gone, as so were the names. They had been there, I knew, but all that remained were letters, jumbled like the tiles of a Scrabble game, and I was unable or unwilling to form them back into the memories that they had been.

I continued on to the control room, in a much fouler mood than I had started. When I arrived, Elizabeth, Carson and Bates were crowded around a small screen at the control station. Where Peter Grodin should have been sitting was another nameless technician, trying to adjust the quality of the picture. The ache started again when I tried to remember what had happened to Peter, and with a sickening roll of my stomach, I realized what the answer must be.

I stepped in behind Carson, in time to hear Teyla providing an update on the evacuation preparations. Beside her stood a large man with dred locks and muscular crossed arms.

I nudged Carson and mumbled under my breath, "So is Teyla on the planet or at a bachelorette party?"

"What?" he whispered back.

"The himbo standing next to her. What? Is he the local head cheese of cheese heads or the evening's entertainment?"

"That's Ronan Dex, Rodney. He's a member of your team."

"You're kidding, right? Where's Ford?"

Carson's face tightened and he shook his head. "Ford's not on your team anymore," he whispered sadly.

"Where the hell is he?" I demanded in my own whisper. Then I felt the blood drain from my face. "Oh, God, is he dead?"

Carson shook his head. "No, but it's too complicated to explain right now."

I crossed my arms and frowned. "So I'm supposed to believe that we removed Ford from the team and replaced him with a male stripper."

"Rodney!" he hissed.

"Well, what am I supposed to think? The man is wearing a belly shirt and chaps for Pete's sake. Chippendale's is probably offering a reward for information on his whereabouts right now."

"The man could crush your bloomin' head with his thumb and index finger. So, you better watch your yap. You're not exactly his favorite person as it is."

I snorted. "Please, I'll just slip a few singles into his waist band and be fine. Besides, I'm not exactly anyone's favorite person, Carson."

Carson rolled his eyes and tilted his head toward the screen, "I wouldn't be so sure about that, lad."

Teyla and Bob Marley had moved back allowing Sheppard and Radek to come into view. Sheppard seemed to be scanning the small MALP screen. "Where's McKay?"

"Here," I called as I pushed through between Bates and Elizabeth so that I was in sight of the camera transmitting back to the planet. "I'm right here."

Sheppard gave me a small smile, one that I recognized in all its condescending purpose. "Rodney, nice of you to join us."

I rolled my eyes. "Nice to see you, too, Colonel," I told him dryly. I tapped below my own eye to indicate his blackened one. "You might want to take better care in picking your playmates from now on."

The smile softened and I realized I had used my left hand with the ring to indicate the injury. "I plan to," he told me meaningfully and I felt myself flush at his words. Jesus H., the man was flirting with me by MALP, from another flippin' planet, and in front of everyone in the gate room. And the worst part, the very worst goddamn part was that for the first time in my life I understood what it felt like to be a space bimbo on Kirk's radar.

I cleared my throat, intentionally crossed my arms to hide the ring, and raised my chin. "Do you have any more information on the power grid?"

Radek pushed his glasses up as he spoke. "Yes, is good thing we came to planet to see for ourselves."

I perked up. "So you think you've found a way to fix it?"

"No, is bad news. The cascade failure, it is happening faster than we predicted. The area under the shield is half the size we thought it would be by now."

"How much time do we have," Elizabeth asked.

"By my revised calculations, entire grid will be shut down within thirty to thirty-five hours. But area around gate will go before then."

"What does that mean, Dr. Zelenka?" she asked.

"It means that if we do not fix before that section shuts down, then shielded area will be cut off from gate."

"And when do you think we will lose that particular section?"

Radek shrugged as he considered her question. "Is hard to say, but I think less than twenty hours."

Sheppard cut in. "Oxygen levels outside the shielded areas are already down to twelve percent and they just keep falling."

Elizabeth turned to Carson who shook his head. "That is already dangerously low, anyone spending anytime in that sort of atmospheric condition is going to be experiencing faulty judgment, confusion, and disorientation. And if it falls below ten percent it will become life threatening."

"Teyla," Elizabeth called, "can we have everyone evacuated within twenty hours?"

Teyla stepped forward again. "It will be difficult. Many have already left to stay with family and friends on other worlds, but most have nowhere to go."

"How many people are we talking about?" Sheppard asked her.

"Several hundred."

"We can take some of them on Atlantis, but nowhere near that many," he told us.

Elizabeth nodded her head gravely. "Agreed, Colonel. I'll have another team start looking for other temporary relocation sites, but until then let's see if we can get this power system back up and running."

"That has been plan all along," Radek supplied with a frustrated sigh.

"Teyla and Dex are going to stay behind for a few more hours," Sheppard informed us, "but I think Dr. Z here is anxious to get back to Atlantis and the lab." Radek nodded in agreement.

"And what about you, John?" Elizabeth asked the question that I wasn't willing to.

His eyes scanned the screen until they came to rest were I would be standing. "I'm coming home," he told her but I couldn't help and think that the statement was directed to me alone.

x x x x x

I decided I'd made a tactical error.

Don't get me wrong; I was excellent at screwing up various things…from personally to professionally, but when it came to tactics, from sound to daring, I usually had more of a grip on how to accomplish a goal. When I'd moved out on Rodney, I had fucked up royally. I _knew_ him. I knew how well he liked change not initiated by him…not at all. I knew how stubborn he was and how willing to manipulate or flat out bully those around him to get what he wanted. Only now he wasn't going to get his way…because he didn't have a clue as to what he really _did_ want. Staying out of his sight was only going to make it easier for him to avoid me, and I didn't want to be avoided.

He'd come to see me off. He'd let me see his ring. It was all a start and now was no time to let anyone drag their heels…him or me. So I grabbed my garbage bags and headed back to our room. Once there I triggered the door and walked in. Dumping the bags on our bed, I looked around and gave a heavy exhalation of relief. I could breathe again. Stupid, I know, but I felt like I'd stopped doing that the second I had walked out of the room yesterday morning.

My eyes were caught by my Johnny Cash poster lying on the coffee table. The two rumpled pieces had been carefully smoothed out and taped meticulously back together. Well, look at that, I thought to myself. I moved over and picked it up. As I was studying it, a damp and naked Rodney walked out of the bathroom while scrubbing his wet hair with a towel.

I cleared my throat. "Um, hey…I would've knocked, but I thought you'd be in the lab."

It wasn't quite a seizure but it was a damn close imitation. Arms windmilled, muscles spasmed, and he couldn't seem to decide whether to cover himself with a towel or sprint back to the bathroom. Finally he managed to do both. As Rodney bolted towards the bathroom legs pumping, he wrapped the towel around his waist. He disappeared from sight, but his voice wasn't so shy and retiring. "What the fuck, Sheppard? What the **_fuck_**?"

"Yeah…" I drawled. "Like I said, I thought you'd be in the lab."

"Well, pardon me for taking ten minutes for a little personal hygiene. Miko wouldn't dream of complaining; she'd probably soak up my sweat and worship it as the effluvium of a saint, but Radek isn't so inclined. When you're compared to the scent of a sweaty linebacker's ass-crack, you tend to take it seriously. And as the PSAs say, now you know. And since you know you can…oh, let's see…_leave_."

I moved over to the bathroom door and leaned against the frame, charitably facing the outer room instead of what I would have much rather had a look at. "Actually, I'm moving back in. Don't worry," I added before he could say anything. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"Oh, well, now I feel so much better," came the razor sharp retort from behind me. "The horniest man in the Pegasus galaxy says he'll sleep on the couch. Yes, that's right up there with let's take off our clothes and just cuddle. A line, by the way, I tried many a time in college. No one bought it then and I'm not buying it now."

"The horniest, huh?" I grinned. "And here I thought you had amnesia."

"Oh Christ, you're making me crazy. Shut up. Just shut up."

Something thwapped me hard in the shoulder, a bar of soap maybe. It was a familiar sensation. It was how Rodney usually woke me up. Impossibly cheered, I said, "You know, I do have to coordinate evacuation teams. I was going to run around and do it, but now I think I could do it by com. Make this my own personal control room. It's a challenge, but I think I'm up for it." I snatched a quick peek over my shoulder. I was truly shooting for nobility here, but I was only human. To hear McKay tell it, more basely human than most. For my trouble I received a murderous glare and a sopping washcloth in the face.

It was worth it.

"You are so dead. _Dead_, do you hear me?" Rodney pushed past me to grab some clothes from the dresser and once again vanish back into the bathroom. This time the door slid shut firmly behind him…which made me wonder why it hadn't done that the first time. Two minutes later it opened again and he steamed out. He didn't look at me, simply kept chugging towards the door. "Out. I want you out when I get back, all right? Nothing personal. I'm just not quite ready to…er…this…with you…." Arms waved desperately. "I'll come visit you in the zen palace if I have time. If that's okay…. I hope it's okay, and that, you know, I have the time. Well, going. Bye." And he was gone.

Before the ring, I might've been discouraged. But I wasn't letting myself go that way again. If I'd given up that quickly over three years ago, I would've died on that Wraith ship right along with Sumner. Shrugging, I moved over to the bed, pushed the bags to the floor, and flopped onto my back. Keying my com, I said, "Bates? I have some work for you. I want ten evacuation teams…." As I talked on, my eyes slid to the poster I'd left on the coffee table and I smiled to myself in satisfaction.

A few hours later I was doing what I most often spent the vast majority of my time doing…keeping geeks alive. "Vegetarian for Lady Miko." I presented the plate to her with a flourish and watched as her eyes nearly rolled back into her head as she did a helluva impression of a spontaneous combustion victim. Hastily, I averted my gaze from her and her bonfire red skin before she went catatonic and handed Dr. Z his plate from the tray. "Meatloaf. Goatloaf. Some kind of loaf and a double helping of mac and cheese."

"Ah!" Radek's eyes brightened. He had a serious jones for macaroni and cheese, the more thick and gluey the better. "You are good man, Colonel. You deserve so much better than what life has cursed you with. I hear there is new anthropologist coming on next Daedalus run. Specialty mating rituals of aboriginal peoples." He winked knowingly. "Also double D, I hear. Could be fertility statue come to life. Is how you say? Hubba hubba."

"Yes, this is all very conducive to saving desperate lives and tasty cheese," Rodney scowled with more annoyance than was called for. "Perhaps you could draw him some visual aids while you eat, _Zaloonka_. I'm sure it would be instructional for us all." And maybe Rodney was already being a little instructional in his own right.

I winked at McKay and handed him his plate through the slowly turning hologram. "Spam stew and two butterscotch puddings. Your favorite."

"You have got to be kidding. I know I don't have a problem with cafeteria food, but even I…oh wow." He spooned up a second mouthful of the stew and repeated blissfully, "Oh wow."

"They first came up with it a year ago last month. You celebrate that anniversary with more enthusiasm than our own," I snorted. Slouching against the counter, I poked a finger at the hologram. There was a ripple of light that prompted yet another scowl from Rodney. "Should I ask about any progress?"

"Only if you want Spam where it doesn't belong," he mumbled darkly around another mouthful.

"Yeah, not touching that one," I responded. McKay's mouth quirked minutely at the comment before he turned his attention back to the shield and his amusement disappeared.

"Too bad the Ancients didn't bother to issue warranties, because right now we'd be better off calling in the goddamn Maytag repair man." He slapped the bowl down on the counter and Radek winced as gray pink gravy went flying.

"Rodney, I tell them in control all day, every day, and now you." His hands flew in demonstration. "Flinging food and juices. Is not good for computers. Is not good for…." Zelenka caught the molten laser blue shot his way and he finished quickly, "Yes, never mind. I bring up at next week's staff meeting. Please to continue with gravy application."

I slapped Rodney's back lightly and then gripped his shoulder. "You've got a few more hours. There's still time for you to pull a rabbit out of your ass…er…hat." I shot a sheepish look at Miko who squeaked behind her veggie sandwich. I slid my gaze back to McKay and gave him a look of bright humor. Squeezing his shoulder one last time, I released him reluctantly. "I'm going to check on the teams Bates has pulled together. I'll see you later." I grinned wolfishly. "And I think you know where."

I ducked the flying Spam and hit the corridor. Three hours later Rodney came stomping into the room, slammed a foot into the coffee table, and then collapsed onto the couch. Dropping his head into his hands, he made an inarticulate growling sound.

"Nothing, huh?" I laid my book onto the bed where I was reclining. I'd been ten minutes away from another trip to the lab. We were getting down to the wire now and if the geeks couldn't do it, it was time to get moving.

"Depends on your definition of nothing, but since you seem to be doing that so well right now, I'm sure your grasp of the concept is stellar," he said scathingly. "And what are you doing here? I told you I needed some space."

Pressure, Rodney performed like a rock star under it. Like a fucking rock star, loudly and with flare…but it didn't mean he had to like it. And he was more than happy to share that dislike with anyone in the tri-gate area. Getting up, I moved over and sat down on the couch next to him. Bumping his shoulder with mine, I ignored the last part of his tirade and said matter-of-fact, "Okay then. We evacuate. We lose some cheese, but we save the people and most of those funky six legged llama things they milk. We can't clean up every Ancient screw up in the galaxy." I shrugged. "And God knows they don't seem in a hurry to. So, we do what we can do."

"Do what we can do. It's not quite up there with Death Before Dishonor or Give me Liberty or Give me Death." He exhaled, rotated the heels of his hands against his eyes and then straightened to lean back against the couch. "Okay. Start the evacuations. We'll keep working to the end, but as it stands now, we're dead in the water." He stared into space for a few moments and finally snapped, "Damn it. It's right there. It's like this…this tickle in the back of my brain and every time I think I have it I remember these names. And then my head hurts and then it's all gone again. Names, tickle…just gone. I cannot believe I am such a goddamn wimp that I might get people killed because it's too _painful_ to remember." Venom practically dripped from the word…venom for himself.

"Hey," I said sternly, wrapping my hand around his wrist. "You tell it to me often enough. Now I'm telling you. Shut up. You got me, Rodney? Shut up. You got zapped by an Ancient device. Shit happens. And you have every reason to not want to remember…at least for a while." My attempt at a reassuring smile wobbled a bit. "Just not permanently, okay?"

He looked over at me with tired, bloodshot eyes. "I _am_ sorry, you know. I've been a dick." His mouth twisted ruefully. "More so than usual. I keep trying to kick you out of your home and the whole running away while yelling at the top of my lungs probably isn't doing much for your self-esteem." He tilted his head slightly towards me and relaxed, snorting. "Not that you've ever had a problem in that department before. Was Chaya at the wedding? Did she stand up during the 'does anyone here have any just reason' part?"

"Actually she's in a box. You souped up that Ancient mousetrap from the invulnerable thing, and…." I shook my head. "Never mind. You gloated too much the first time."

"Me? Gloat? Never. A horrific lie." His wrist turned into my hand until he could clasp my own wrist. I don't think he even knew he had done it until he looked down. "Oh. Ummm, that's kind of nice." He sounded surprised. I wasn't. I'd known how nice it was for a long time now.

"Yeah?" I smiled. And it wasn't my Kirk leer, as he liked to call it. It was the private smile I had for Rodney and only Rodney. It was a window to what I hadn't really believed I'd actually had in me until him. I had lust aplenty, sexual competition, the thrill of the chase, casual intimacy…I had shitloads of that. It was all I had ever given anyone that I'd been with—up until Rodney. Whatever my smile said to him, it never failed to stop him, to make him focus on me and only me. I had no idea what it looked like from the outside. I didn't want to know. I was sure it was painted with a vulnerability that would embarrass the hell out of me. Maybe even scare the hell out of me.

He looked up at me and caught the smile. The surprise in his voice spread to his face. "Yeah," he echoed softly. And that's when I saw him. I saw Rodney…the Rodney I'd woken up with two days ago. It wasn't all of him, only a flicker at the back of shadowed blue eyes. And Chaya…she'd been after Gall and Abrams had died, but he'd remembered her. He'd remembered her and maybe he'd remembered me. It wasn't all of Rodney or all of his memory, not yet, but it was enough that when he leaned a little closer, I did the same. I felt the faintest brush of his lips on mine, the warmth that radiated from them.

And for a second, one unmatchable second, the world was right again. The universe was whole again. _I_ was whole again.

"No." A blow struck my chest hard enough that I fell onto my back on the couch. "**_No_**. I don't want to. I don't _want_ to." There was the sound of running feet, the door opening….

And he was gone.

I, on the other hand, was still there, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling with the taste of defeat in my mouth. Oddly enough it tasted salty and bitter—like blood. If he'd given me a matching black eye, it would've been like they say…déjà vu all over again.

So much for optimism.

x x x x x

I had found a picture of me and John. It was set up as the wallpaper on my laptop. I had no idea who had taken it or when but we were in the field… vests, packs, guns all in place… and we were walking through an alien forest, talking as we went. It would have seemed like just another picture of two teammates, if not for the smile he was giving me. I had never seen a smile like that before, at least not from John and never directed at me. It was the first proof that I had had since the whole memory loss episode began that _showed_ me what others had tried to tell me. Because as much as I might be able to deny the words they were saying, I couldn't deny what was behind that smile and I couldn't deny what was written all over my own face in return. It was the smile in that photograph that had originally sent me in search of his ATA gene in the city under the guise of delivering a pair of toothbrushes to his room and it was that same smile experienced first hand that had sent me in search of soft lips and warm welcome when I leaned toward him without conscious thought.

I could still feel his breath, even hours later back in the lab; still feel the ache in my body wanting him near, like the phantom twinge of a missing limb. But the flash of memory was gone, pushed back more violently than I had pushed him away when the names crashed down and the pain flared up. And as much as my body had made it abundantly clear that it wanted John, my mind was just as adamant that it didn't want to take on the burden of the names that would have to come along with those other memories.

John. I had never thought of him as John. Sheppard, Major, hell even Colonel was starting to sound normal, but never John. Not until now. And honestly, I didn't know if that was a good sign or not. Because even as that name started to settle back in my memory even more comfortably than the owner had settled in our quarters, the pain started behind my eye again and he was Sheppard once more.

With a rub of my forehead I glanced over at Radek then at my watch. I had gone way too long without caffeine. Sheppard should have been in here by now carrying a tray with snacks and coffee. It had been his pattern all day and now when I really could have used it, the Sheppard delivery service had closed for business. Not that I was really surprised, he was busy organizing the evacuation efforts. Right, that's why he wasn't here. I was sure it had absolutely nothing to do with the words I had yelled as I ran out the door. Words that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the memories of those dead scientists, but as Radek had said earlier, I was too much of a chicken-shit coward to go back and let him know.

I was just about to suggest a run to the cafeteria for coffee when Elizabeth called on the radio. "Rodney, I think you should report to the control room."

There was something in her tone that caused the hair to rise on my arms. "Why? Is there a problem?"

"Just come down here, please."

Radek had risen from his seat and was already moving toward the door. "On my way."

We made our way quickly through the halls, reaching the control room just as the worm hole disengaged and Teyla and several refugees stepped off the embarkation platform.

Elizabeth walked the short distance from the monitor she was watching, with Carson close on her heels. "There's been a problem," she told me succinctly. "Colonel Sheppard was working to evacuate people when the shield collapsed in the section he was in."

I frowned in confusion. "Whoa, whoa, wait. Sheppard's back on the planet?"

"Yes, he's been there most of the night. I thought you knew."

"Well, I knew he was going, he just never…" I stopped; of course he wouldn't have told me he was leaving, not after the way I had last left him. "It doesn't matter. Where is he now? Is he all right?"

"That's the problem," Carson supplied. "He's become disoriented because of the low oxygen, confused. Teyla was talking to him by radio for a while, trying to get him to return to the gate, but he hasn't made it back yet. She waited as long as she could, but the shield around the gate finally collapsed and she couldn't wait any longer."

Teyla placed a hand on my arm, causing me to jump as I didn't even know she had made her way up the stairs. "I am sorry, Dr. McKay, I stayed as long as I could, but I had refugees with me and dared not put them in further danger."

I ignored her and turned to Carson. "How long does he have?"

He shook his head. "Everyone responds to lowered oxygen differently. With the oxygen levels where they have been, he could last several hours, but with the levels continuing to fall, there's just no way to know. But given his erratic behavior so far, it is definitely affecting him."

"What sort of behavior?" I demanded as my heart pounded in my chest.

Teyla regarded me with serious eyes. "He told me he was coming toward the gate, but when I spoke with him again to check his progress, he had not left from his last location. Then it became obvious he thought he was already back in Atlantis. Right before I came through the gate he was calling for you on the radio."

I started for the stairs. "Dial the gate. I'm going to get him."

"Rodney, you're not thinking this through," Elizabeth insisted. "If you go over there, you'll just put yourself in the same situation he is and we'll be trying to figure out how to save both of you."

"Then what the hell do you suggest we do, Elizabeth? Leave him there and hope he stumbles across the gate?"

"We're going to reestablish the wormhole and see if we can reach him by radio. We were hoping you might be able to talk him back."

I swallowed my panic and nodded my head as the wormhole burst to life. "Sheppard, this is McKay. Do you copy?"

"Rodney?" a slightly slurred voice responded.

"Yeah, it's me." I leaned heavily into the control console, a combination of fear and relief washing over me.

"Where the hell are you? I've been calling you, but you haven't answered me. I was starting to get a little worried."

"Well, we're getting a little worried about you, too. Listen, do you think you can find your way back to the stargate?"

"You mean in the control room?"

I hung my head in frustration. "No, I'm in the control room. You're on another planet, and I need you to find your way back to the stargate there. Can you do that?"

"I think so."

I sighed in relief. "Good, now are you on your way?"

"In a minute, I'm feeling a little woozy right now." By the taut look on Carson's face, I knew that couldn't be good.

"No, no, no, Sheppard. You need to leave now. It's the planet that's making you feel that way. As soon as you get to the gate and back to Atlantis, you'll feel better. All right? So you need to head for the gate now."

"Rodney?" And he said my name with such tenderness that my legs felt wobbly.

"Yes?"

"You've been in the lab all night. Are you coming home soon?"

I ran my hands through my hair, noticing for the first time how much they were shaking, turned to Elizabeth and managed to choke out, "Goddamnit, we need to go get him."

She shook her head sadly. "Rodney, without the shield, it is just too dangerous."

The shield, the fucking shield. The shield that I knew how to fix only couldn't remember how for the life of me, but I sure as hell was going to try to remember for the life of him. I had to remember the names, if I could just get past the names, I would have it. A list of names I sure as shit wasn't adding Sheppard's to.

I grabbed Radek by the shirt front and pulled him along behind me as Sheppard called again. "McKay?"

"Still here," I reassured. "Listen, I need to take care of something right now. But I'll be right back. Teyla will talk to you until I'm done, okay?" I nodded to Teyla who eyed me quizzically, but started talking to him even as I dragged Radek over to a corner of the room.

"Tell me the names," I directed.

"The names? Rodney, I don't understand…"

"The names of the scientists that died!" I took a deep breath, trying to hold the encroaching panic at bay a little longer. "I need to relearn them. If I can get past that, then I think I can remember the rest." He hesitated, so I started. "There were two killed by the Wraith when we went to see the weapon's satellite."

"Abrams and Gall," he confirmed.

I repeated the names, setting them to memory. "And then the nanovirus," I coaxed.

He sighed but ducked his head, "Wagner, Johnson, Dumais, and Hays." I repeated the names, feeling the pain start, and ignoring it as I motioned for him to continue. "And then Peter…" he hesitated at the name.

"Grodin," I stated out loud. "Abrams, Gall, Wagner, Johnson, Dumais…" I grabbed at my head as the pain exploded above my eye.

"Rodney, this is not good," Radek insisted as he took my arm.

I shook him off. "Keep going."

"You could be putting yourself in danger by doing this," he reasoned.

I regarded him with desperate eyes. "Sheppard's already in danger, no could be about it."

He signed again but did as requested. "Then during Wraith attack…"

And the names kept coming and I kept repeating them and learning them and pushing the pain away that had me pressing my head into the wall until finally the names weren't just names, they were faces, they were people, they were memories returned and with those first few came all the others and one pain disappeared to be replaced by another, and I almost wished the throbbing in my skull was back instead. But then that thought disappeared as well, as the entire past two years came crashing back into place.

I looked up at Radek, seeing him for what he really was, one of the best friends I had ever had in my life, and smiled. "The blue one."

"What is blue one?" he asked.

"John's toothbrush is the blue one."

He smiled back excitedly. "You remember?"

"I remember. Let's go fix a fucking shield."

Less than half an hour later, I hoisted an airtank on my back as the hazmat technician ran through the operations yet again.

"When the bell rings you'll have approximately twenty minutes of breathing air left. You should start back to the gate immediately at that point," he told me as he tightened the straps on my shoulder.

"Yes, yes, now how much oxygen do I have all together?" I asked impatiently.

The young man gave me an aggrieved sigh. "You don't have oxygen, you have breathing air. The team searching for Colonel Sheppard has the oxygen tank for him alone."

I had gotten off on the wrong foot with the marine, when I had called the air tank SCUBA instead of S.C.B.A. Who knew the hazmat techs were such sticklers for proper terminology? I shook my head in short-tempered dismissal, not wanting a repeat of the whole underwater versus on land explanation. "Fine, breathing air, not oxygen. How much do I have?"

"A tank typically lasts two hours under normal breathing conditions, but under strenuous conditions, such as physical exertion, excessive talking or panic," he stressed the last and I frowned, "it could shorten it significantly. Which is why you need to pay attention to the bell."

"Right, listen for the bell," I repeated as I glanced over at Radek receiving a similar lesson. Teyla, Dex, Sgt. Phylmer and Lt. Robbins were already geared up and ready to depart in search of John at his last known location with the much needed pure oxygen Carson had ordered for his immediate treatment. Robbins checked the life signs detector in his hand and gave me a wary freckled-face smile and nod of his orange-haired head when he saw me look in his direction. The poor kid would probably burst into flames even with SPF 50 sunscreen if he spent too much time in the sun. I had evidently scared him near to death when he had opened the door to John's old quarters to find me demanding the whereabouts of Sheppard. I felt bad about that now, considering he had sent stale snickerdoodles home with John after the last Daedalus mail run, evidently straight from his mother's West Virginia oven. And the fact that he had volunteered to put his search and rescue experience, as well as his ATA gene to work today only made me feel worse about not recognizing him the day before. But guilt over any sore toes would have to wait, as I had more pressing matters to attend to, like the weakening voice I heard in my ear.

Carson and Elizabeth were talking to John, keeping him occupied and somewhat alert while I prepared for the trip through the gate.

"Where's McKay?" he asked again, and I finally couldn't take not answering anymore.

"I'm right here, John. How are you doing?"

"I have one hell of a headache. Think you could run by the infirmary on the way home and pick me up some Tylenol?"

"I've got something even better," I assured him.

"Good." He exhaled sleepily. "Think I'm just going to take a little nap until you get back."

Carson's eyed widened in alarm and I knew that couldn't be good. "No! John, I need you to stay awake." Carson nodded his approval as I continued. "Can you do that for me? Just wait up for me, okay?"

"Sure, Rodney. You feeling a little frisky?"

Carson covered his mouth as Elizabeth reddened. Radek actually sputtered beside me. I rolled my eyes heavenward. Even near death the man was a perpetual horndog. "Will you promise to stay awake if I say I am?"

"Hell, yeah," came the enthusiastic if blurry answer.

"Good, then stay awake," I told him as I glared at Radek for his outburst.

"Hey, McKay?" And I instantly recognized the sleepy swagger in his voice. "Do you think we could…"

"John!" I cut him off even as Teyla's eyebrows shot up and Ronan looked like he might rip his radio out before Sheppard could go any further. "Let's save this conversation until we're together."

"Sure," he agreed, then asked what he had numerous times already. "When will you be home?"

"Soon," I promised, "In fact I'm on my way now."

He exhaled heavily again. "Good. It's been pretty damn lonely without you."

I swallowed as the search team moved through the gate. "I know, John, but I'll see you soon." I hoisted my tool kit even as Radek shouldered his own and we followed the others through the event horizon and stepped out onto the Inyian homeworld.

We instantly set to work. I had modified my original plan slightly, seeing as the shield was at the point of virtual collapse anyway, to disconnect the ZedPM, thus allowing for us to open the substations without risk and to quickly disconnect from the grid the ones that Radek's latest survey had indicated were damaged beyond immediate repair. We split up just beyond the gate. I headed toward the main power supply and Radek went to the substation that supplied shielding immediately surrounding the gate.

The search party headed toward the area John had been sweeping for any remaining refugees when the shield had gone down. It was at least an hour's hike away, possibly more, and that didn't include search time. And they were depending on us to get the shield and atmospheric controls back up and operational before their tanks ran out of breathing air. The team had taken a calculated risk, knowing that they didn't have enough air in their tanks for a round trip. Betting on the fact that we would either have the shielding back up in time, or they would be close enough to the gate that they could make their way back even in the dwindling oxygen supply on the planet. I intended to make sure the chips paid on the former instead of the latter.

And through it all, all the repairs and the rerouting, I talked to John. We chatted about what I had done in the lab, what he had done on his last survey of the city, what we had eaten for dinner the night before and what was on the menu for the rest of the week. Never mind that it had been days since we last sat down and ate a meal together. Right then, I would take hallucinations of time spent together over silence. I talked so much that just shy of an hour in, the bell on my tank rang, but I flipped a switch and the substation I had been working on hummed to life and the shield flowed into place above me. I gave the atmospheric controls the rest of my tank to reestablish a viable atmosphere, then took off my mask and worked without it for the rest of the time.

The rescue team should have reached his location by then, so I called to Teyla to ask about their progress. "We have reached the small farm that he last reported from, but he is not here."

"Is there anything distinctive about the farm?" I asked. "Something he would recognize?"

"There is a windmill next to an outbuilding, perhaps used as storage for farm equipment," she supplied.

"John, do you see a windmill anywhere around you?" I asked.

"A windmill?" he asked in confusion. "Like in that story? Don somebody…"

"Don Quixote," I supplied, "and yes, a windmill."

"Don Quixote! That's right. Hey, you know another Don that I liked? Don Johnson. I loved 'Miami Vice', damn good show. He had such a kick-ass car and an alligator."

"John," I tried to call as calmly as I could, but it was getting harder, seeing as the team's air tanks were running lower and his thoughts were obviously becoming more disjointed by the second. "I really need you to focus for a minute and tell me if you can see a windmill from where you are."

"Okay, Jesus, you don't have to get so bent out of shape about it, Rodney."

"Sheppard, for God's sake, just concentrate and tell me if you can see a fucking windmill."

"Oh, hey, look at that, there it is down at the bottom of the hill. Wow, it's so cool. I should go and check it out."

"No, Colonel Sheppard, stay where you are," came Robbins' southern drawl, "We'll come to you."

"Robbins? Hey, Rodney, Robbins is coming over."

I continued to work, even as I answered, "I heard."

"Maybe he has some more cookies." He yawned loudly. "Rodney, you about done? I'm getting awfully damn sleepy."

"Soon, John, soon. I promise."

"Rodney," Radek called, "I have third substation up and running."

"Can you bypass the next one and tie this last one into the area were John and the team are?" Time was running out, for all of them, and there was no way if we continued on with the start up as we had planned we would have the shield up in that area in time.

"It will not work, the surge will be too great without the buffer of substation between. We have cut grid down to bare minimum as it is."

"I've been thinking about that. If I cut the power being supplied from the ZedPM, the surge of power won't be as strong."

"But how will you cut power? It is not like there is volume knob on the side."

"No, but if I can disperse part of the energy flow like a lightening rod, run it to the ground, it will cut down on the flow to the substations. The shielded area will be smaller but it will go to the area we need it now. We can worry about bringing the rest of it up later."

"I think it will work," he agreed enthusiastically.

"Give me five minutes to reroute a few things and we'll be ready to go."

I set to work with the reroutes when it dawned on me I hadn't heard from John for a few minutes. "John?" I called worriedly and received no answer. "John!"

"Huh?" he answered weakly.

"You're supposed to be waiting up for me, remember?" I cut a wire, cursing silently as I dropped the cutters from trembling hands.

"Yeah, I am." He yawned again and his voice was hazy, sleepy, like I had heard numerous times as he burrowed contentedly into my shoulder just before he drifted off. "Did I ever tell you, I have trouble sleeping when you're not here?"

My breath stuttered and I forced myself to concentrate on my work. "No," I told him honestly, "I never knew that."

"Well, it's true," he mumbled and yawned again. "So tired."

"I know. Just a little longer, okay?"

"Rodney?" his voice was barely more than a drowsy whisper.

"I'm here. I'll be there soon, just stay awake. Please, just stay awake."

"Rodn…" and he was quiet.

"John?"

Nothing.

"John! Goddamnit, you wake up! John! You better fucking wake up, do you hear me? John!" But again there was nothing, nothing but silence. The wires wavered before me and I blinked back the threatening tears even as I forced my shaking hands to make the appropriate connections. "Teyla, have you found him yet?" And if she heard the quake in my voice she ignored it.

"Lt. Robbins thinks he has a lock on his life sign detector. We are approaching the area now."

A life sign. It had to be his, it had to be. I refused to believe it could be an alien llama or a flock of birds or glow bugs or any of a hundred different goddamn things that he could be reading besides John. I made the final connection and called to Radek. "It's ready, fire it up and let's get some atmosphere for them."

"Almost ready," he called.

And with nothing left for me to do, I sat and waited, my heart pounding in my chest, the flow of blood throbbing in my ears, my skin flashing hot and cold, just like waking with a gasping breath from a nightmare in a dark room. Only there were no sleepy murmurs of reassurance, no arms holding me tight, pulling me close even as he drifted off again. I couldn't help but find it ironic that even in his sleep John could make me feel safe, but not this time. This time sleep was the nightmare itself.

"Dr. McKay, we have found him!" Teyla exclaimed in my ear. I held my breath, waiting to hear the rest. "He is alive, but unresponsive. We are starting the oxygen now."

I buried my head in my hands, exhaling painfully. "Thank you, Teyla, thank all of you." And I had never meant anything more in my life. "How is your supply of air?"

"Both Ronan and Sgt. Phylmer are completely out. Lt. Robbins and I will run out shortly."

"Well, the shield should be in place any minute and the atmosphere soon after," I assured her.

"The shield is operational, Rodney," Radek informed me. "They should have a safe path all the way back."

I leaned back against the wall of the station I was working at, letting the exhaustion and relief wash over me. He was alive. He was alive. He was alive. And that statement played over and over through my head as I continued to rebuild the shield grid while Teyla and the others brought John home.

I met them at the gate, jogging up to them as soon as they were in sight. John was on a stretcher, the mask from the oxygen tank over his mouth, and he was still asleep. I took his hand and squeezed, called his name softly.

His eyes fluttered open and he regarded me with an almost drunken expression. "McKay?" he asked in confusion. I nodded and squeezed his hand again. "It's about goddamn time you got here," he told me as he returned the squeeze weakly and drifted back to sleep.

We started for the gate, his hand held firmly in mine. "Yeah," I agreed with a smile. "About goddamn time."

x x x x x

There was a windmill in the distance.

The sails weren't white like normal, but a cheerful sky blue. They turned slowly…sluggishly…in a wind I didn't feel. There was a mist though. An odd green brown, it rose up from the ground to taint the air with a smell that stung the nose and made your lungs ache like they had when you were a kid and were holding your breath in the pool.

The fog wasn't ugly though…kind of peaceful really. Greens and browns over blue…reminded me of Earth a little, where the only thing inclined to jump out of the woods and eat you would be a bear. And I'd take a bear over a Wraith any day. At least a bear wouldn't give you the smug villain speech that the Wraith seemed to consider their sworn mission statement. Bow before me….you will die a thousand deaths…I will devour you and use your dead hands to fly your ship….

Not nice. Not nice at all. Certainly not as nice as windmills.

As I watched the windmill, Rodney talked to me. I tried to listen, but I was tired and it wouldn't kill Rodney to let me take a nap. Some of us were mortal men who needed more than an hour or two sleep to function. And there were windmills, and, okay, windmills weren't Ferris wheels, but they were still nice. If I talked to Rodney, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on just how nice they were.

"This is revenge. I know it. He's avoiding me, Carson. There's only one chicken-shit coward around here, Sheppard, and it's you. Do you hear me? Goddamnit, I _know_ you hear me. So wake up already and stop with the passive-aggressive unconsciousness. It's annoying as hell."

Definitely Rodney, going on and on about something and I didn't have a clue what. Yeah, that was standard McKay all right. Maybe I should pay more attention. He sounded worried, but….

Blue. The sails were so incredibly blue.

And the grass was green. Not Earth green, but, hell, where I'd grown up it was mostly dirt anyway…not much grass to be seen, green or otherwise. I wasn't picky. I picked a blade of the stuff, the green-yellow of cheap jade and watched it flutter and fall. I'd fallen like that before. Out of the sky to sand far below. I'd walked away, but no one else had.

"Well, if anyone could make a man not want to wake up, lad, it would be you." It was Carson's voice this time. Carson's exasperation. And a flicker of Carson's face superimposed on the windmill…just for a second. "He's had a rough time of it, and not just on the planet either. He deserves some rest. Try leaving him be for a wee bit. After all, you said he talked to you for a second at the gate and he was mostly coherent. That's a good sign there was no brain damage."

"Gee, Carson, I feel so much better now. There might not be brain damage. That's right up there with he might not be dead…how about we give him two aspirin and just wait and see? Patch Adams had nothing on your happy-go-lucky bedside manner. John, do you hear this? Do you hear what I'm suffering through while you're lying around shirking?" There was the sound of harsh exhalation and a quieter plea. "Please, John. It's been seven hours and I'm getting a little lonely too, okay? So, please…wake up."

Blue. The sails were blue….

My toothbrush was blue.

My toothbrush was on the floor. Why was it on the floor?

With that thought the windmill disappeared and there was nothing but darkness. Didn't much care for that. What with all the bears and Wraith in the woods, dark just didn't seem that safe. And while Rodney had finally stopped nagging at me, I decided maybe that wasn't what I wanted after all.

That's when I opened my eyes. Not much, a sliver and even the dim light stung them. Everything was dull white and drab gray and nothing blue at all. Not until Rodney's eyes looked up from our clasped hands and met mine…it was the windmill all over again. He swallowed thickly and then gave me the most stunning smile. All crooked angles and smug sheepishness, and fuck yeah, it was stunning. To me if to no one else, but since I was the only one who counted when it came to judging Rodney's smiles, what I said was the gospel truth.

"You're awake." The smile widened impossibly. "Oh my God, you're awake." The scowl followed instantly. Rodney giveth, and Rodney taketh away. "About fucking time."

I gave a smile of my own, more of a smirk really, and felt the slight shift of plastic against my face…an oxygen mask. I started to lift my hand to push it off, but that made me stop and notice. Rodney was holding my other hand. And that made me recall…Rodney didn't remember me. He didn't know me, not all of me, and he'd run from me the last time I saw him.

Like dominos my own memories tumbled into place. I'd gone with the evacuation teams, helped some natives, been head-butted by a llama and spit on by a toothless old man determined to tough out the whole non-oxygen issue. Finally I'd gotten him and Muhammad-allama moving when…things had gotten confused. I didn't remember much after that. Just people talking to me, bitching at me, Don Johnson…what the hell, and a windmill. A gorgeous fucking windmill. I wished Rodney could've seen it. My Rodney.

My smile faded and I carefully extricated my hand from his. He probably felt guilty. Obviously something had happened…the shield had collapsed most likely and the low oxygen levels had gotten me. And now he felt guilty enough to be holding my damn hand. Well, I could do without the pity hand holding. I could and the hell with it feeling so goddamn nice. My hand pulled free and I said with a miserable effort at being casual, "Sorry."

His scowl disappeared. "Oh." He seemed lost in contemplation for the moment, as if he were looking for a way to tell me something. Then he leaned forward, removed my oxygen mask, and kissed me. "Don't be," he murmured and then he kissed me again. It wasn't the kiss of someone new to me or my body; this was a kiss with years of intimacy behind it. This was the kiss of someone who knew me, _remembered_ me.

What had it been? Three days? A little more? It could've been three years, that's how much I'd missed him. With his lips still on mine, I grabbed a handful of his shirt and jerked hard, pulling him bodily on top of me. He gave a surprised grunt and said, "Not that this isn't nice, but I'm not sure Car…."

"Shut up, Rodney, okay?" I pressed my face against the juncture of his warm neck and the cool cloth covering his shoulder. "Just shut up for a minute." And for once, maybe the only time ever, he did. Silently, he let me hold onto him. Hands smoothing my hair, his lips on my jaw, he said absolutely nothing and absolutely everything, all at the same time.

And it was windmills and Ferris wheels…fast, fast planes, a billion stars in an alien night, the bluest of blue skies.

It was home

x x x x x

I lay staring dazedly up at the ceiling, a warm ocean breeze blowing in from the open window cooling my sweat soaked skin. I took a few deep, gasping breaths before finally finding my voice. "I actually saw stars." I smiled deliriously. "Jesus Christ, I think I may have blacked out for a second."

I reached a blind hand out beside me and John clasped it as soon as mine made contact with his. "Hell, I can't feel my toes," he sighed beside me, "they're so goddamn tingly."

I laughed then turned my head to find him smiling that amazing smile at me. That goddamn, heart-stopping, amazing smile. "Good thing Carson kept you in the infirmary for an extra day or your blood oxygen levels may have dropped dangerously low. I hate to admit it, but maybe he knows what he's doing after all." I may have given Carson more than his fair ration of shit, and he more than deserved it, but I usually let it slip for a day or two after he saved John's life, which given the unnerving frequency of that, it was a wonder I ever gave him shit at all.

He shrugged, then turned on his side, pulling my hand up and kissing my palm, "Maybe he knows us a little too well."

I rolled over in a mirrored position, intertwining our fingers. "We have become rather predictable in our old married lives, huh? Risk life and limb to save universe, land in infirmary near death, come home and have god-awesome sex that has the neighbors trying to decide if they should take notes or install soundproofing." I rolled my eyes in exaggeration. "How do we stand the tedium?"

He smirked, "Hell, I'd be happy if we could skip the first two parts and just go straight to the third. Just be a couple of boring homebodies."

I leaned forward and stole a slow kiss. "There is absolutely nothing boring about having your body at home."

Home. Carson had finally released John that morning and let me bring him home. And that was exactly what I had planned to do. The night before I had slipped out of his room in the infirmary when I was sure he was asleep, intent on unpacking his things and having everything set up just the way it had been before he moved out. The thought of him not being there in our quarters, in our _home_, made my stomach queasy, and the fact that he had left, had actually packed his things and walked out for me, _because_ of me, didn't help matters. I had worked quickly, not wanting to be gone if he happened to wake in the middle of the night. The look on his face alone when I had risen from my chair for a quick trip to the bathroom the day before, had been enough to have me sit back down, take his hand and rationalize that I had already held off peeing through eight hours of unconsciousness, what was a few hours more.

I had hurriedly placed his books back on the shelf, trying my best to remember which went where. I had hung up the clothes on hangers, put the shoes and boots and field gear back in the closet and crammed the remainder of his clothes back in the dresser drawer and rehung the repaired Johnny Cash poster on the wall. And that's when I realized we were missing two things, the picture from the bedside table and our toothbrushes. I had torn through the garbage bags, searched to make sure they hadn't fallen out and rolled under the bed, but to no avail. With a final glance at my watch I cursed, realized I had been away from the infirmary longer than I had intended and resolved to enlist assistance and find them in the morning.

At seven a.m., I was on the radio with Radek, having him go to the temporary quarters John had moved into and find the missing items. Twenty minutes later, he reported he had found the toothbrushes, but not the photo.

"Are you sure?" I demanded in a hushed voice from the corner of the room as Carson went over discharge instructions with John.

"Rodney, it is empty room. Two toothbrushes on the floor, very obvious. No photograph also very obvious."

"It has to be there somewhere, keep looking."

"Yes, search empty room again, valuable use of my time and talents. Oh, look! Is still empty. Imagine that."

I sighed as I saw John standing from the bed. "Fine, just get the toothbrushes back in the cup above the sink then get the hell out."

"Yes, yes, return toothbrushes, check hidden video camera, and I will be gone."

"Radek," I ground out the name.

He chuckled in my ear. "Rodney, relax, Colonel is coming home, is good day, yes?"

I glanced over at John and couldn't help the grin. "It's a damn good day," I agreed.

We made our way through Atlantis, John seeming intent on moving at a pace just below a slow jog and me moving slower in order to give Radek time to complete his task. Finally, he reached out, gripped my elbow and pulled me along. "McKay, for God's sake, let's get home." He spoke the words low and urgently and the underlying need in them made me weak in the knees.

I patted the hand on my arm. "We'll be there soon enough," although that was definitely not what my body was telling me. "I don't need you collapsing in the hallway because you used up all the oxygen in your bloodstream sprinting through the city."

He slowed but the grip on my arm tightened. "It's been five goddamn days." He leaned into closer to my ear. "There should be a fucking law against that." And I willed myself not to melt into a puddle right then and there from the feel of his warm breath on my neck.

We rounded a corner and came face to face with Kavanagh. He rolled his eyes when he saw us, then sneered with a glower at John's hand on my arm. He pushed between us, breaking our contact with a snarl and stormed down the hall.

"What the hell is his problem?" John asked, even as he reached out and possessively grabbed my arm once again.

I grinned. "I think he's jealous. Evidently Beulah-Anne dumped him."

Sheppard raised a curious eyebrow. "Huh. Not that I would wish Kavanagh on anyone, but what brought that about?"

I rocked on my heels. "Oh, I don't know. It might have had something to do with the women's underwear from Radek's private stash that ended up in the now fuckless Dr. Fuck-up's bed right before one of their regularly scheduled trysts."

"Really?" he asked with an evil grin and matching glimmer in his eyes.

I locked blue eyes with hazel. "Nobody crashes a jumper with you in it and escapes unscathed."

He released his hold on my arm and fisted up the front of my shirt. "Goddamn, McKay," he exhaled breathily, then started dragging me down the hall.

We were almost to the turnoff to our quarters when we passed Dex. He came to a stop, watching warily as John pulled me along by my shirt. "Ronan," Sheppard nodded in greeting, barely slowly our progress.

Dex furrowed his brow, and I pointed to my own waistband and then his with an approving thumbs up sign. We were just out of earshot when John asked suspiciously without turning around. "Rodney, why the hell did Dex have dollar bills sticking out of his pants?"

I shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "I told him it was an Earth custom. Besides, I felt I owed the nurses that took care of you a thank you. And seeing as everyone seemed to enjoy themselves, I figured no harm done."

"He's going to kick your ass when he finds out the truth."

"That's why you sleep between me and the door."

He shot a smirk over his shoulder and quickened his pace for the short distance that remained. We reached the door and he swung me around in front of him, grabbing a second fist full of shirt and kissing me even before the door was completely open. He let out a moan of relief against my mouth as he walked me backward into the room and shut the door behind us. I grabbed his shoulders to steady myself, then ran one hand up his neck into his hair. And, oh my God, there really should be a law against going without for five days.

But then the lips and tongue moving against mine stopped. I opened my eyes, pulling away slightly with a worried, "John?"

He cupped my jaw reassuringly, then ran his hand down my arm and took my own in his. And then I realized what had stopped him. He was looking around with a dawning smile, seeing that everything was back to normal and as it should be in our quarters. I squeezed his hand and laughed nervously. "Welcome home."

He interlocked our fingers as he walked over to the bookcase, then the poster on the wall. "I think I can get a new one," I told him quickly, "but it will have to wait until the next Daedalus run."

He shook his head even as he ran a finger reverently over the tape I had applied. "I want this one."

"Are you sure? I did the best I could do to fix it, but I have to admit I never paid that much attention to arts and crafts in elementary school. Unless you count the fully functioning robot I made out of paperclips and rubberbands."

He turned and fixed me with a smile that stopped my breath. "I want this one," he reiterated.

I gave him a crooked smile in return. "Well, if that's what you want…."

He looked past me and the smile dropped away and I followed his gaze to the empty spot on the bedside table, the spot where our photograph should have been. "I can't find it. I've looked everywhere I can think to look. Did you stay anywhere else when you…" I hesitated, hating to even think the words.

He released my hand and I instantly felt his absence. So much for the perfect homecoming. He went to the dresser, opened his drawer and gave me a dismayed look when he saw the clothes crammed haphazardly into the space. "I was going to refold them later, you know, when I had a little more time."

"Sure you were," he told me with a sarcastic nod of his head even as he started rummaging through the clothes. After few seconds, he pulled a shirt triumphantly from the drawer, unfolded it and pulled out the photo.

"Oh, thank god," I exclaimed, not realizing until that second how truly desperate I had been to have it back.

With a small flourish and a waggle of eyebrows he placed the frame back on the table. "Perfect," he stated with a smug grin.

I took the few steps that separated us and tackled him to the bed. "Yes," I told him as he pulled me down into a deep kiss, "it is."

And it didn't take long for that kiss to lead to more caresses and fewer clothes and exploding stars and tingling toes and lying side by side staring into each others faces as I pulled back from the warmth of his lips.

"That was one hell of a welcome home, McKay." His voice was alive with mischief, but I was just relieved he was alive period. And with the relief came regret and guilt and a hundred other emotions I had been holding at bay for so long. I tried to hide behind a forced smile, trying not to destroy the mood, but I had never been able to hide from John. "Rodney?" he asked in concern.

I tightened my grip on his hands. "This never should have been a welcome home. You never should have left, I never should have made you feel that you had to leave, I never should have forgotten you in the first place. I honestly have no idea how I was able to forget you… us, but I did and it never should have happened. And as bad as you moving out was, nearly getting you and those llama herders killed was even worse. And all because I couldn't handle the fact that people died. They died and I couldn't stop it from happening."

"You know…" John started and he squeezed back even harder on my hand. "And you better goddamn _know_ it, it was never your fault. No one died because of you. They died _despite_ you. No one works as hard, no one comes up with as many brilliant ways to save lives as you. You saved every single person left on Atlantis when you got the shield and then the cloak up and running during the Wraith attack. Every single person. So just shut up, will you? Because I'm not going to sit here and listen to you beat yourself up over something you had absolutely no control over."

"But, there's no excuse…" I started but he leaned forward and kissed the words away from my lips.

"I said, shut up, and by god, I meant it. And if you won't do it on your own, then I'll just have to make you."

I raised amused eyebrows. "Really? And just how do you plan to do that?"

"I'll just find some other way to occupy that overactive mind of yours," he told me confidently as he moved closer in the bed.

"And you honestly think you know how to do that?"

"Yep. There are two sure fire ways: physics or good old fashion lovin'. And since physics bores me to tears…" He planted a lingering kiss and I sighed when he finally pulled away realizing the son of bitch was right to be so confident.

I rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes and feeling my body respond to his fingertips running lightly along my side. "You know, Einstein said something about love and physics." I told him then kissed him, unable to resist the feel of his breath on my lips. "He said love was like…" He rubbed his nose against mine and pressed his lips to mine once again. "He said love…" I started again but I was too wrapped up in the feel of lean muscle as I ran my hand down his back to finish. I laughed lightly against his mouth. "You know, I can't seem to remember what Einstein said about love and physics."

John pulled me even closer. The feel of his body against mine was all the comfort and welcome I'd ever want, the only home I'd ever need. "That's the first time all week I'm glad you forgot something, McKay." And a few minutes of passion later, I was so caught up in John that I forgot that was even my name.

The End


End file.
